Wicked Nightshade
by Orphilia
Summary: Three words; sensuous, sneaky and dangerous. Those were what drew men to Alanah Nightshade. But she had a destiny of her own to fulfill. Or were they an actual part of it? And what twists can fate add in to throw her off course? Why don't you come see?
1. Fate

_**A/N:**_

_This is basically a story I decided to write while watching my boyfriend play Skyrim. It's rather cheesy at times and somewhat corny, and I tried to give as much detail but then as little as possible in the same sitting. Some things are more detailed and explained than others for a reason, so please don't point out the obvious._

_Also; thanks to the jackass that left a review without paying attention to how the NPC's talk on Skyrim in a faction; no Phiro and Brunjolf are not **BLOOD** brothers. -_-; In Skyrim, and in any faction in most Elder Scroll Series'; they address their friends as 'Family' rather than as simply 'Phiro' and 'Brynjolf'. Also; ontop of that, you could have adoptions. Maybe I hadn't gotten that far into the story line yet. Hm? _

_Also; on another note.. this is just a story idea I came up with, as I said. I'm not sure how far it will go or how graphical it will get. So, I'm not going to make any promises. If you like it, review it. If you don't; just click the big red X at the top right corner of your screen. :D Save me the trouble of getting agitated._

_I do not own the NPC Characters or the Main Quest Base story line. Only the O/C and the Story itself about the O/C's. All rights go to Bethesda and Zenimax._

**Full Summary:**

Three words; sensuous, sneaky and dangerous. Those were what drew men to Alanah Nightshade. But she had a destiny of her own to fulfill.. Or were they an actual part of it? And what twists can fate add in to throw her off course? To taint her vision with trials of both the mind and body. To twist her to their every whim and woe. Why don't you come see? Rated M for Language, Violence, Gore and (oo how naughty *sarcasm*) SEX in future chapters.

* * *

**Embrace of the Dovakhiin.**

Phiro watched silently as she entered into the tavern, sizing her up; as if her every move was of utmost importance. The elegant twist of her hips as she took each step, the way her shoulders were squared, causing her posture to take on one of importance; the way her arms swung only slightly at her side. The way her gaze drifted over each and every person occupying the tiny room, her eyes guarded and careful. Her fingers appearing to hang loosely just above the almost perfectly hidden dagger hilt at her side; she was cautious. Cautious and smart.

Phiro watched as her eyes scanned the tavern, turning to gaze innocently back at her; willing himself not to gawk as the others did. She held his gaze for only a moment, her right brow raising slightly as she saw his expression, before she moved to sit at a table across from him. She slowly eased into her seat, and raised a dainty hand in the direction of the bar tender. She must have ordered a drink, cause within seconds s mug was placed in front of her; out of which she sipped gingerly at.

Her eyes peered out over the mug in his direction, he noticed out of the corner of his eye. He reached down over the spine of his tome and grasped his own mug, sipping at the sweat yet bitter mead. He sighed at the familiar burning sensation it sent down his throat and turned back to his tome. She was still watching him, careful and cautious. Yet underneath her fragile gaze was a deep layer of curiosity. He recognized it well, even though she was almost as good as he was at hiding her emotions.

Phiro noticed when she lost interest and started to relax, getting comfortable in her seat now that she had some mead in her stomach. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason she looked far more youthful once she relaxed than she had when she had first entered the tavern. He pretended to read his tome for a bit longer, watching the way she moved. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he knew her from somewhere. Like he had seen her before. His eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on her face, trying to place where he knew her from. But he couldn't quite his finger on it. He also couldn't figure out why he had this feeling in the pit of is stomach like he had to keep her safe.

After a few more minutes of pretending to read, he noticed she took out a book of her own. He couldn't quite tell what it was from this distance, but the worn spine told him that it was definitely not a new book. _So she's old fashioned.. _He thought with a quiet chuckle. He wasn't quite sure where that thought came from, but it seemed as if he'd thought it before. He slightly shook his head, before his own eyes returned to his tome. He scanned over the contents of the last bit of the ice spell, before he sat back in his seat and closed the tome. His eyes were starting to get heavy from the evening of reading, and he knew he would soon need to retire to his quarters for the night. But he didn't want to leave the room, he didn't want to lose sight of her. It made his stomach feel kind of uneasy and he wondered if it was just the mead or something else.

He shook his had to clear it and slid the tome into his knapsack, which was resting in the chair beside him. He slid six coins out of his coinpurse onto the table and turned his eyes back to the woman once more. She was deeply concentrated, not even noticing his gaze on her this time, and so he was free to take in her features. His eyes caught on the silver strands that were falling out of the hood of her cloak, sliding down to land just ontop of the breast of her robe. He guessed that was her hair, and he continued to gaze at it for a few more moments before she glanced up from her book; her eyes slowly focussing as they moved around the room. It was as if she knew he was staring at her, because her eyes came to rest on his in mere seconds. She didn't seem to care, but her cheeks started to tint a slight pink color as she averted her eyes back to her book and tried to seem uninterested.

He chuckled to himself once, before he stood from his table and kicked the chair back into place. He felt her eyes on his back as he quietly moved over to the counter to speak to the young barmaid behind the counter. A smile playing automatically up his features, putting on the familiar face he used to get his way; knowing the poor girl didn't stand a chance against his charm. Tapping the countertop to get the young girls attention, he whispered; "Excuse me, Milady, but could you please give that young woman over there a mug of your finest wine and tell her it's from a friend?" He watched as her eyes followed the direction his head tilted towards, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Oh, yes! I would be delighted to, sir." She gushed quietly, taking the twenty septims he slipped her without question. He watched with slight amusement as she made her way over to the elven woman, stumbling over her own feet in her rush to reach her; before he turned and made his way up the stairs to his room. He made sure to keep his door open just enough to get an idea of the girls reaction. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, the girl had caught his attention. And that was rare.

The elfs voice was even more beautiful than he imagined; gushing over the embarrassment of him buying her a drink. It was melodic in sound, almost as of she were singing a lullaby to someone; so soft and tender, yet the tone was young and angelic. He bit his lip as the hairs stuck straight up all across his arms, giving him goosebumps. She sounded as beautiful as she looked. He slowly closed his room door, making sure it was loud enough for her sensitive ears to pick up before he locked it tight and moved to the worn bed in the center of the room.

He carefully undid the strap to his bow and slid it under the mattress, in hopes a thief would overlook it. He hid his coin purse in the nearby wash basin and then lifted his shirt over is head and slipped out of his shoes. Carefully, he pulled the blankets back and climbed between them. Just moments after his head touched the pillow, he started to drift into the realm of dreams. But not before he heard her voice in his ear, whispering or singing a soft tune to him.

* * *

He awoke groggy and disoriented, but far more rested than he had been In months. He satup slowly and rubbed at his eyes, shifting to slide his legs over the edge of the bed and stand on his feet. His arms raised into the air as he lifted up on his toes to stretch, his back popping in protest. He reached accross the nightstand beside him to grab the shirt he had disguarded the night before and slipped back into it; tying the strings of the vest as he secured it into place. Standing, he moved to slide his feet into the boots he had taken off the nigth before. Sitting on the edge of the table was a small flower; he would have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention. The flower was small, in the shape of a bowl and colored a deep sapphire blue. _A lily..._ he thought and immediately moved to check his coinpurse. It was still there. Along with his sum of over six thousand septims. A smile found its way to his lips as he remembered the elf from the night before. He knew immediately who had left him the flower. Clever girl.

Reaching under the mattress, he retrieved his bow and moved it back to the familiar spot on his back. Stretching as he did so, one last time, before he decided to exit the room. He hesitated a moment by the door, before he grabbed the flower and set it in the pocket of his vest. Deciding he would wear it to show that he noticed her little visit. The thought of her in his room with him asleep made him blush only slightly, before he shook his head and exited the room.

She was already there, seated in the same exact place she had been the night before. Her book resting in her open palm and propped up on her index finger, resting on her crossed legs. Her silver locks hung barely in her face, her head tilted as she read whatever was in her hands; her lips slightly parted and moving barely as she read the words. His own lips curved into a smile as he watched her, moving to rest in his seat from the previous night as well. He didn't fail to recognize the worn spine of the book, she was still reading that same book. He was slightly curious as to what it was, but didn't want to go and disturb her concentration.

Her amber colored orbs lifted from her book the moment he sat down, a slight tint of pink coloring her cheeks as he nodded in her general direction and took out his own book; deciding to start on a new tome; deciding he might as well read since the tavern was relatively empty and her attentions were occupied. Her eyes travelled down to the flower in his vest pocket and her lips curved into a shy smile as she looked back down at her book on her lap, tucking her hair behind her shoulder with her free hand; which made it easier for him to see her face. He felt like she was taunting him for some reason, and it made his own lips curl into a smile in response.

After a few moments of their simultaneous reading and secret glances in each others direction, a group of stormcloaks entered the tavern. Almost immediately her posture went from relaxed to rigid and afraid. Phiro felt the confusion on his face, and watched the stormcloaks as they made their way to the counter. He heard them grunt a few questions at the young barmaid from the night before, before he noticed the girls eyes dart to the woman accross from him. While their backs were turned, he noticed her slip a few coins out of her top onto the table, stash her book and slip quietly out the door. He stood, and made his way to the door just as the young maiden pointed to the empty seat.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, Phiro cursed under his breath and pulled his shirt tighter around his exposed neck; looking around for the young woman. He would have missed her if he hadn't seen her silver hair dance in the wind as she rounded the corner. He took off into a jog to keep up, coming around the corner faster than he should have. The second he was around the corner he felt a hand grasp his wrist and pull him into a dark, secluded corner; nestled just under the roots of one of the greatest oaks in all of Skyrim. And there she was, the young woman. She had an elven dagger pressed to his throat, her eyes no longer shy nor timid. Now they were full of loathing, fear and even what he guessed to be excitement.

"_Why are you following me?_" She hissed, just above a whisper. Her eyes moving from his to the dagger she pressed a slight bit rougher into his throat. It barely knicked the skin, and she didn't fail to notice it do so. Her expression became rigid as she heard the men enter the square. She cursed under her breath and risked a glance over her shoulder, before scowling defiantly up at him. _She thinks I led them here!_ He thought, his expression becoming exasperated. Try to help and she gets the wrong impression. Just his luck.

"_I wanted to be sure you could take care of yourself_," Phiro told her. His own face becoming a scowl as she pressed the dagger a bit closer to his neck, the blade causing him discomfort but not getting through his resolve. He knew she had every right to be cauteous, especially of strangers she didn't know, but he didn't like that there was a dagger digging into his jugular.

Her face started to twist from the emotions playing through her mind._ Trust him or not trust him_? She sighed to herself, a defeated sound, as the dagger was lowered from his neck. Reaching up, she slid a delicate finger over the small cut the imprint of the dagger left. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped her lips. A tingling feeling slid up his neck as she healed the tiny wound, and then her piercing orbs moved to rest on his. Suddenly, they were no longer so hostile or threatening. Instead they were mildly curious. She let loose a low chuckle before turning back to the square to watch the men.

"_Those men, why are they after you_?" He whispered, looking over her head towards the open square where the men were looking around. They couldn't seem to spot them, though, and he felt relief wash over himself. Why was he do concerned for her safety? He had no idea. He had just met the damned girl, and already she was getting him into trouble. The familiar scowl spread up his face and he shook his head. _What am I getting myself into?_ He thought.

"_I escaped Helgen with one of their leaders, and then got myself into some trouble along the way to join up with their ranks.. seems they don't take kindly to elves in Windhelm.. I might've told one of the men where to shove it, and angered a few of the higher ups_.." She whispered, her face turning to gaze at the men in the square. Her face softened and became rather amused in moments, and Phiro caught himself wondering if she always managed to find trouble. And if she enjoyed it. He simply shook his head and watched the men spread out, looking in every nook and cranny for her. She really must have angered someone important. He breifly wondered if these roots around them would be able to hide them if they came to check them.

"_What sort of trouble, exactly_?" Phiro asked quietly, not really expecting her to answer him. Instead, her answer both shocked and amused him. Again triggering the emotions he felt the night before, and his mind again wondered to why exactly he felt so drawn to her. Why it was her he felt the sudden need to protect. Even if it was obvious she didn't need it, considering how close she came to causing him to lose his head.

All she said in response to his question was, "_He said if I didn't obey his rules in his town, he'd show me where my place was._."

Phiro watched her face as she spoke, she was standing there with her shoulders squared and seemed to not be bothered at all with retelling the story. He could only imagine how that would have made her feel, knowing that she wasn't welcomed in the town. Knowing that if she let him walk over her, he'd think he'd won. Her stubborn pride making her retaliate. The man had shown her how most Nords were in Skyrim. No wonder she was so cautious. She was afraid. He almost didn't notice the tremble in her, until he felt his arm shaking at her side. He caught himself wondering what she did to him to have the guards looking so relentlessly for her, but thought better of asking and decided to keep quiet.

"_I showed him that I could take care of myself, and won a brawl against him..and he told the guards I attacked him_.. " She whispered as she turned to face him, fire burning in her amber irises. "_I can pack a punch, so do not let my looks deceive you._" The challenge behind her words making him smile coyly. She was definitely a spunky one, he had to give her that much. She had a fiery kind of attitude that only added fuel to the fire that had become his curiosity.

"_I never said you could not, bosmer..I hope I didn't offend you_." Phiro whispered, his gaze turning back to the men in the square. They seemed to be arguing over something, but turned and exited the town through the main gate only seconds later. Phiro watched the young bosmer out of the corner of his eyes, the relief making her whole body relax. He guessed she didn't want to stick around any longer than she had to. For fear of them coming back once they realized she hadn't left the town.

She slowly climbed back out of the roots, and stood in the square quietly waiting while he followed. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he saw her for the first time in the sun; staring at her this time as he took in her appearance. Something he had tried to do the previous night, but this was like seeing her anew. And that same familiar knot swelled in his abdomen as he gazed at her. She seemed so small.. so fragile, standing there in the open square. Her chin tilted up as she stared at the cloudless sky.

Her skin was abnormally pale for a bosmer, lighter even than that of the fairest Nords he'd encountered. Her eyes seemed lighter, almost like a greyish amber. Her lips, slightly pouty and full; were a light red color. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she gazed up at the sky, the shyness flooding back into her face. Her nose was sharp, angled; as if it were made by a god. Her cheekbones were high, but her cheeks were slightly rounded; giving her a youthful look. Her form was something else entirely. Mature, yet petite.

Her shoulders were broad, holding up a slender neck. Her upper torso was busty; peeking over the tops of her boostiere. Her lower torso was flat, as flat as a valley even as it plunged into her pelvis. Her hips were wide, prominent, strong. Her legs were long, slender and lean. A runners legs. Her arms were slender, but her muscles were outlined and definitely there. Her waist was small, slender; under her corsette. Her feet were dainty, slightly pointed at the toe and almost bare; save for the wraps she wore to protect her soles.

And most of all, what he was always staring at, was her beautiful straight silver strands of hair. That were now blowing in the wind. Untamed, yet so soft looking. So shiny. So full of life. His eyes slowly moved to hers, and it was his turn to blush. He averted his eyes to hide his expression and cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to be caught staring at her, but he was, and he let out a slight grunt in protest to his ever deepening blush.

"_We need to get out of here_.." He told her, looking down at her as he did so. She didn't say anything in response, just nodded her head and gestured with one of her hands for him to lead the way. Her eyes were now guarded and cautious, but she didn't seem to want to leave his side. That much was a good sign, right? _Why do I care so much? _He thought to himself, the familiar scowl replacing his shy expression. She drove him absolutely mad, he decided. One second she was warm, the next she was colder than the snow in the mountain tops.

Phiro sighed and started towards the opposite end of town; to a secret exit only he knew of. At least, only him and the members of his Guild. His brothers. He bit his lip as he crossed the main square, a bridge and finally passed a few stray doors; before he opened one and waited for her to move through it before closing it securely behind them. He didn't realize that by protecting her, deciding to stay by her side to ensure she was fine, he was setting fate in motion. On a course he couldn't stop. Not even if he wanted to.

* * *

Brynjolf closed his eyes once more, leaning back on his cot and pinching the bridge between his eyes. His headache had not faded in three or four days, and his entire body ached due to lack of food and water. He cursed under his breath, opening his eyes to gaze up at the mold covered brick ceiling. He felt worse than he had since he joined their faction. Since the day he had stumbled through the doors and been deemed an asset to Mercer and his pawns. The day that his new life started. A knock at the door averted his attention, and he called out to the person or persons to enter.

Carefully, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his cot, so that he could look at the door. Much to his surprise, in walked a young bosmer with flowing silver hair down to her waist. Her eyes were guarded, but so were the eyes of his younger brother. Phiro. Phiro and Brynjolf were the closest to family out of all the members of their Guild. They had immediately taken a liking to eachother six years ago when Phiro stumbled into the square in town. Brynjolf stood up slowly and moved to his brother, raising a questionative eyebrow. He wondered why his brother would bring an outsider to the Ratway. And a bosmer no less! He knew of Mercer's hatred for most of the elven people, so what was he thinking?

"_Phiro.._," Brynjolf started, as his eyes travelled along the form of the woman at his side. She didn't look to be a day over sixteen moons. She looked young, and slightly afraid. Yet under her fear was a a resolve he admired. "_What brings you here? And who is this?_"

Phiro bit into his lowerlip slightly as he stared up at his older brother, who was almost twice his size even with the lack of eating; which he noticed almost imediately. He breifly wondered how long it had been since Brynjolf had eaten. He reached into his sack and withdrew a loaf of bread; holding it out to him. Offering him something to eat, to sugar him up. And Brynjolf took the loaf eagerly, eating it as slowly as his starved stomach would allow. Which wasn't that slow.

He noticed the way the bosmer watched him disbelievingly, not in a judgemental way, but in a curious sort of way. Her greyish amber irises held the contact of his in a defiant kind of way. He was almost sure he was scowling at her, challenging her. He used his self control to smooth it out and noticed that her eyes slowly relaxed as well. She was a rather pleasing sight for the eyes, he had to admit. Even if she made him feel like a bit of a lecher for looking at her. He shook his head to clear it of the jumbled images running through his mind.

"_Phiro.. you never answered my questions._" He said to his brother as he turned to him. The expression on Phiro's face was fatigued, and so he moved to the fireplace in the center of his room, emptying the three chairs that were placed infront of it. He gestured for the two to sit and sat in one himself. The other two sat down in the chairs gratefully. No doubt exausted from the trials of the ratways. No doubt about it, he was sure they met mild to moderate resistance in getting here. The group of bums was ever growing in the ratways, and they were most likely as starved and desperate as the rest of them were.

Phiro cleared his throat before he began to speak, quickly filling him in on the events of the past two nights. From their chance encounter in the tavern to their persuit of the guards as they descended into the ratway to take shelter. He left out the strange connection he shared with her, though. He felt rather emberassed by it and thought it wasn't needed to be expressed. He also told Brynjolf of his need to hide her somewhere for a few days, til things with the stormcloaks calmed down and she could travel freely. He expressed his need to keep her hidden more so than anything, and Brynjolf found himself wondering if she was dangerous. Or if she could end up being an asset to their Guild; a theif.

Brynjolf reached up to stroke at his beard as Phiro explained everything, considering the options he had. Turn away his brother and the young bosmer or allow her to stay while his brother did what he had to to ensure their safe travel from the city. He knew that if he needed, Phiro would pay for them giving her room and board. And as much as he hated to admit it, they really could use the coin and the food that Phiro would supply. Even if he was scared of getting the guild into any trouble. He sighed softly and nodded at his brother.

"_Alright, Phiro.. we can house her. But you know what I'm going to need in return. We've been having a rough time here lately.. I hadn't eaten before today for almost four moons. And we will need supplies, not only for her but for us as well. As much as I hate to ask for it, we are desperate.._" He told him, his own face taking on a grave seriousness that made him appear even older than he actually was. Phiro didn't argue, instead he reached into his satchel and took out his sack of coins. He set the entire thing on Brynjolfs knee and gesetured for him to take it. His expression wasn't solemn or even regretful, it was as seriously as Brynjolf's was.

"_And one more thing, Phiro.. who is she?_" Brynjolf asked, gesturing in her general direction. He could tell by the way Phiro moved around her that she was important to him. Even if they had just met, something was drawing the two closer together as time progressed. The way he shifted when she did. The way he was constantly watching her. It was as if he were sweet on the girl, even if Brynjolf thought that he wasn't.

Phiros gaze moved from Brynjolfs to the girls and he nodded his head in her direction. When Phiro answered, he merely said two words; "_Ask her_." Brynjolf felt the corners of his lips tug up into a knowing smile. So Phiro had finally taken interest in someone. And it was an elf like himself, and from the looks of it she was just as fiery and spunky as he was. So he might have met his match, afterall. "_So, it's like that, is it?_" Brynjolf asked, jabbing his brothers side with his finger. Teasing him.

Phiro turned several shades of red and gave his brother a wicked glare. This only made Brynjolf start to howl with laughter. He was right! Phiro, the young and spunky altmer, had finally taken to a lady. His laughter only got louder and Phiro was turning more and more red. He could only guess what Brynjolf was thinking at this very moment. And he knew that he was hitting the right marks with his thought, because Phiro felt his cheeks heat up with the emberassment of it.

Phiro reached over to grasp the front of his brothers shirt and throw im to the ground, landing ontop of his waist as he started to reach for pound into Brynjolf's chest with his fists. Using his sheer force and the angle he was in to help his hits be a slight bit more effective. He could feel Brynjolf struggling against him, trying to get his footing loose. The two were rolling around on the floor when they both heard a soft giggle infront of them. Sitting there on her chair, the girl was laughing at their playful fight. She seemed to find it humerous the way they were rolling around on the floor like dogs.

"_'Ey, lass, think you could do me a favor?_" Brynjolf asked, as he turned to look up at the young bosmer. Who was covering her lips with one of her hands and attempting to hide her quiet giggles. Phiro tried to maneuver himself while Brynjolf was occupied but failed when the larger males arms blocked his feeble punches. Her cheeks turned pink the moment Phiro's eyes came to rest on her; making her shy from all of the attention. She meerely nodded her head in response and got up to move over to where the two boys were in a heap on the floor.

"_What is it you would have me do, Brynjolf?_" She asked quietly, shocking him as much as it shocked Phiro when she said his name. And the way she sid those words. He had to close his eyes tightly to fight off the knot his stomach had become before he could gaze up at her once more. He took a deep breath and flashed a boyish grin her way, causing her to blush once more. For some reason, he liked making her blush and the way a shy smile spread up her features as she looked at him.

Phiro landed a punch to the side of his face and he snapped out of the trance he was in. He leaned up as far as he could towards the girl, noticing how she leaned down to allow him to whisper in her ear; and he fought off another punch from Phiro with ease. He didn't fail to notice the way she shivered, or the way her eyes averted away from Phiro's. "_Think you could get this overgrown boy off of me, lass?_" He whispered, knowing only she could hear him. Phiro's eyes went wide as he saw the mischevious grin spred up her lips and her nod her head.

The way her eyes lit up with that familiar fire, the way her lips looked so devious, he could feel the sweat trickling up the back of his neck. He was afraid. He barely had time for the wicked grin of the two to register, before her fingers slid up and under the fabric of his shirt; barely touching his skin as they travelled up the taught muscles of his abdomen and moved up to just under his rib cage. He stiffened before he felt her hands grasp the skin there and she gave a slight heave of her shoulders and tugged him off of Brynjolf; the two landing in a heap on the floor with Phiro sprawled out ontop of her, his head on her stomach.

Brynjolfstarted to howl with laughter once more. Moments later the other two joined him in his laughter, each one laughing at the other two. The laughter filled the room and gave them all a more youthful liked to see Phiro smile from time to time, instead of always wearing that same scowl he seemed to wear a lot more lately. He didn't fail to notice the glint in the bosmer's eyes as she laughed with him, the way her lips moved back even more to reveal a set of perfectly white teeth. The way her smile broadened as she heard his laughter the more it went on.

Slowly, the laughter faded and they were all left smiling and panting. Slowly Phiro moved so that he was no longer on her, and the bosmer girl got to her feet graceflly. Brushing the dust from her leather pants. Phiro's eyes locked on the bosmers once more and he tried to catch his breath, a smile on his features still. A smile that broadened as he saw hers. It was clear as day that he was smitten. Smitten over this girl he had just met. Brynjolf shook his head and got up off the floor, extending his hand to help Phiro up.

Phiro grasped his hand and pulled himself to his feet. Brushing off the dirt and dust that had gotten on his pants when he had been tackled to the floor. He was still smiling, happily, when he decided to answer Brynjolfs question. He was prepared to tell him what he knew and about the strange connection, but didn't quite want to tell him infront of her. As he was thinking this over, he opened his mouth to say something but before he could get a word out, she spoke for him. Once again speaking in that same, soft tone she seemed to always use when speaking to a friendly face.

"_If you are still wondering who I am, Brynjolf.. my name is Alanah. And this is my seventeenth summer. Anything more than that.. and I can't really tell you. I honestly don't remember much.. Not until I was at the chopping block in Helgen before that Dragon attacked. I am not a danger, I can see the expression on your face.. I don't know why I was at Helgen. Or why I was being exectued. I wasn't even on their damned list! They were going to kill me, and I wasn't on the list!_" The young elf's voice got louder the more she spoke. Until she was almost screaming. Shaking and angry, she looked as young as she said she was. Just of age. Barely even starting out her life and the legion was going to end it. Even if she wasn't on their list. He couldn't blame her now for the way she had appraised him when she walked in. She'd had a bad run in with a lot of people. Even the stormcloaks.

Brynjolf reached over to put a hand on her shoulder to calm her and was mildly surprised when she moved to rest her hand over his. He noticed how Phiro moved closed to her and one of his arms encircled her waist. Pulling her in closer to him and softly rubbing at the small of her back. For some reason, this seemed to fit them all. To be standing there in such a way. She almost immediately seemed to relax. He shook his head and turned away from her. This girl hadn't done anything to deserve the hand life had dealt her so far. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had smacked him for touching her. Either one of them for touching her. He shook his head once more, deciding not to dwell on it. Moving to sit back on his chair by the hearth.

"_I will do my best to keep her safe, Phiro.. Alanah, you have my word. You will not come to harm as long as you down here with us. The people here will not give you trouble. I'll be sure of that. You can take my room while you're here, it's the safest one in the guild._" He turned to look at Phiro as he spoke and Phiro merely nodded his head in response. Phiro was pleased, he could tell that much. Phiro's hand moved to reast on the small of her back, pulling her slightly closer to him and Brynjolf noticed the pang of jealousy he felt in his gut. He was confused as to why he felt jealous, over this girl, but he said nothing. Instead, he moved back to his cot to remove the pelt blankets and replace them with the good linens he rarely used.

"_Thankyou, Brynjolf.. _" He heard Alanah whisper to him, and he glanced up at her to flash a small smile in her direction. Her answering smile was thankful, so soft and full of affection. He felt his heart constrict and he bit into his lip as he turned back to fixing the sheats in his hands. He shook his head and allowed his mind to wonder. He wasn't sure why, but he felt he knew this girl. He didn't know from where. Or how. But he knew her. Something in the way she seemed to make him feel at ease, yet jealous of Phiro all in the same sitting disturbed him deeply. He had no idea of the history the three shared. Not yet.

**Read, review; do whatever. If you like it, let me know so I can keep writing. I'll try to update often and keep the storyline going. Next few chapters will be few and far between, but highly detailive as they struggle to keep her hidden as well as give her a chance to become one of them. Follows Theives Guild and Dark Brotherhood quests; due to an assassination attempt on Phiro's life. So if you wanna read more, let me know!**

**-Mal**


	2. Alanah

Alanah awoke with sweat running down the back of her neck, trickling down her spine and landing on the small of her back. Her eyes were wide with both fear and shock, and her screams never quite reached her ears. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, to try and hide the horrified expression that was on her face. She tried to gasp for breath but felt as if her lungs weren't working. As if she couldn't get them to open up and drink in the precious air to sustain her life.

She looked around the room in panic, her lungs still felt full of smoke. It was all so confusing. It all made sense. It didn't make any sense. She bit into her tongue to keep from screaming again. The frustration being too much to handle. Her heart squeezed in her chest, aching mercilessly for air. For the blood to start pumping. But she couldn't breathe. Her nostrils were on fire, burning and making her eyes tear up. She felt the warm tears spill over her lids and stream down her cheeks. She made a slight choking sob, trying to move to stand on her feet.

She couldn't support herself! She felt so off balance. _What's happening to me? _She thought, the room starting to spin. She fell back down into a heap on the mattress. Her slit sliding up her legs to rest just below her thighs. The straps sliding down her arms and leaving her collarbone and shoulders completely bare. She tried to breathe once more, feeling like she was losing consciousness. She gripped at the blankets and saw the spinning colors before her eyes.

She knew. She knew it all. She knew why they were so familiar. She knew how she knew the two of them. Why they fit so well together. Why they were so... comfortable to her. It all made sense now. The fire, that's what separated them. She thought they were dead. She was sure they were dead. _But how__...__ how could they have survived? The entire orphanage was up in flames. _She was told no one else made it out. No one but her. But Phiro and Brynjolf. They were alive! Against all odds, against the lies she had been fed when she wept at night for her lost friends. It was all just a huge lie. Something to keep her from finding them.

Brynjolf burst through the door the second he heard her screams, coming to rest just beside her on the bed. Not caring to notice the attire she was lacking thereof. He gripped onto her shoulders and shouted something at her. She felt confused, and her eyebrows drew together to show it. She couldn't hear him. _Why can't I hear him?_ She thought, panic creeping its way back up her neck. Making it even harder for her to breathe, if at all possible. Her eyes started to roll into the back of her head, and her lids got droopy.

Brynjolf gave her shoulders another shove, shaking her as hard as he could. She jumped slightly and looked to gaze up at; saw his lips move and then him point to them, slowly she tried to focus on them. What on Earth was he saying? She read his lips as they moved, her head getting lighter from the effort; "What's the matter_?_" She shook her head, trying to speak. Nothing came out. Or maybe it did, and she just couldn't hear it. She was trying to say she couldn't breathe. She tried again and his eyes lit up with understanding.

He went to move across the room to get something, but her fingers moved to grip the front of his loose tunic top with an iron, death tight grip. Fear spread back up her features, was he going to leave her there? Just like that? He slowly disentangled her fingers, seeming to do so with ease; and moved to the wash basin in the corner of the room. Moving back to her he eased her down as quickly and gently as he could and motioned for her to read his lips once more.

He told her to close her eyes and try not to breathe in the water. She nodded her head and barely had time to prepare herself before he started to dab a cloth soaked from the basin of clean, ice cold water onto her face. Her head was still spinning, but slowly the air came back to her lungs, trying to clear the pain from the cold from her aching head. She gingerly reached up to touch it, wincing audibly as she touched her temples. She felt as if her entire had had become an icicle in sheer moments. But the cold water cleared her air passage right up. She could feel the relief of air as it came rushing back into her lungs. Making her heart pound with the effort of getting oxygen to her limbs.

"Can you hear me now, Lass?" She heard him whisper, kneeling down so that he was eye level with her. She simply nodded her head, afraid that speaking would only make the pain in her temples worsen. He reached up to gingerly probe her sore temples, and at first it hurt worse... then it started to fade as heat flooded her skin from his touch. She slowly moved her gaze up to look into his eyes. She had never taken in his features before, and with him this close to her, she had the chance to really take in all of his handsome features. As long as she kept her own eyes composed. So he didn't realize anything was amiss.

She felt a chill run down her spine as his eyes locked on hers, something in his gaze, that made her stay completely still, triggered a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She felt the heat rush up to her cheeks as they continued to stare at each other. Slowly she allowed her eyes to roam over the contours of his features. Over the smooth tip of his nose, up the bridge, across his bushy brows. Over the scar just above his eye, almost concealed by his eyebrow hairs. The deepset blue hue of his eyes. The full, yet pouty set of his lips. The firm set of his jaw.

She had to admit, he was handsome. Beyond handsome. And the way he was staring into her eyes so intently; she suddenly felt subconscious. Her eyes landed just above his forehead, on the red colored locks that were framing his face, falling to his shoulders. She almost found herself reaching up to run her fingers through them, before she composed herself and bit into her lip. She knew he didn't remember her... or the heated arguments they shared before they were split apart. Of their secret meetings under the moonlight by the lake when neither of them could sleep.

She didn't fail to notice the way his eyes lit up as she shifted under his gaze, the way his lips parted slightly and the way he started to lean in towards her. She felt her heart hammer painfully against her ribcage, trying to keep herself composed. The blood started to rush up to her cheeks, and she felt a slight bit dizzy. Suddenly, he stopped leaning towards her and got up from the cot. Moving across the room. His back was stiff and he seemed..distant. It made her almost reach for him, almost call out to him the way she did when they were children. When her dreams kept her awake, out of fear.

She reached down for the blankets that had pooled under her form and pulled them up over her nearly bare upper torso. She looked down at the blanket on her lap and allowed her mind to wonder. What had they been about to do? Why did she feel like she'd done that before. She shook her head, she had no idea. Brynjolf cleared his throat and she turned her gaze warily up to his. He seemed troubled, almost pained, but resolved. It was as if he had just fought an excruciating battle. He looked so tired.

"We shouldn't do that, lass.. " He whispered, his voice still husky from their near kissing experience. It sent chills down her spine, and she had to avert her eyes to keep him from seeing how much she was disappointed that it didn't happen.

"You're right, Brynjolf.. " She whispered in return, her voice cracking when she said his name. Somehow, her tone sounded a bit hurt to her ears, and she couldn't figure out why it sounded that way. She fought stubbornly at the random tears pooling in her eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to, Lass.. " He said, moving to sit back beside her on the cot. Reaching out to her, he gently moved a few stray hairs behind her ear as he spoke. "Because, I'd be damned if I didn't want to.. But Phiro is smitten on you.. and that's somethin' I'd be a fool not to respect." His eyes wondered over her face once more, traveling to the hollow of her neck and across her bare shoulders. Lingering just above her chest. She bit her lower lip as he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. Her breath catching in her throat as he did so. Her entire body covering in Goosebumps.

She could tell he was fighting very hard to control himself, his arms were shaking. One of them rested on the cot and gripped the blanket beneath his palm. The other moved to rest on the hollow of her neck, just under her jaw. She slowly reached up to rest her hand on the back of his, stroking the skin with her thumb. She felt terrible right now.. and she knew why. She knew them. Both of them. Their ties to each other. Their hidden memories that she'd fought to suppress.

Brynjolf looked up into her eyes and he leaned back a few inches, gazing down at her with a curious eye. "What'd be troublin' you, Lass?" He whispered, stroking the outline of her jaw with his thumb. She merely shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to spill the details. Not with him this close to her. Touching her in such a sensual manner. His warm touch. His nearness. The scent of honey and mead on his breath. The scent of cedar's coming off his skin. She could tell he was curious, but he didn't pester her further. He was always so good at that.. being understanding. Not asking why. Not asking what. He just did.

Alanah glanced towards the door, hearing footsteps just outside. She leaned away from Brynjolf and pulled up the straps to her slit. Making sure she was decent, she nodded towards him. She had just enough time to sit and lean against the headboard before the door was pushed open and hit the wall with the force of it. Standing in the door way was an older gentleman; she knew him immediately. A scowl moved up her features as she saw him glance between Brynjolf and herself. Making his own stories to tell, no doubt. Mercer.

His eyes were cold, calculated; as he looked her over. Deciding to himself, she guessed, if it was worth even bothering to talk to her. He turned his attention to Brynjolf in moments, clearing his throat and nodding in his direction. She guessed that was Brynjolf's cue to leave, but instead Brynjolf simply scowled at him. Something was going on. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. Her stomach started to coil and feel uneasy as she watched Mercer's eyes move back to her form. Appraising her.

She knew she wasn't sore on the eyes, but she didn't like the expression in his eyes. One of hate. But underneath that hate, there was lust. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat as she noticed it. He made her sick already. In the few days she had been there, all he did was complain about her presence. Saying she was a danger to their guild. Saying she was a harlot. She had to use all her self-control not to pound his face into Oblivion. She felt the scowl deepen, the hatred she felt for him showing on her face. He turned on his heel without saying a word and left the room; closing the door behind him. Just like when he opened the door, it slammed back into place and echoed off the room walls.

Brynjolf turned to her, a sheepish smile on his face. "He's really not that bad, Lass, when you get to know him.. " She tried to smile, but it didn't work and came out as a lighter scowl instead. She knew he was trying to ease her paranoia; but it just wasn't working for her. She couldn't shake the way she felt. "It's not about you, Lass.. " He began, using that same tender tone he did when he was trying to win her over, " He just can't help himself.. he's been wary ever since we hit this rough patch. He's worried about us."

She sighed, she knew he was right. And damn him for it. She had no room to judge him, considering how she had acted towards Phiro the first night she'd met him. _Phiro.._ she thought, feeling guilt in the pit of her stomach. Brynjolf had said he was smitten over her. Was this true? She couldn't quite bring herself to ask if he was serious or just messing with her. And she wasn't about to ask Phiro himself. Gods, no.

"Brynjolf.. " She began, testing the waters and watching his expression. She noticed the way his brows shot together and up the second he heard her tone. She bit her lip to keep from losing her nerve. "Why does Mercer hate me so?"

She could tell from the moment the words were out of her mouth that she shouldn't have asked for his expression became careful and guarded. He seemed to be thinking over how to word it, how to answer her question. How to keep from hurting her feelings. He moved his hand back to rest on her knee as he patted the top of the blanket there. He cleared his throat and looked up into her eyes, his expression becoming honest.

"He thinks you'll be the undoing of our guild.. we're in a rough spot and if things continue the way they're going, we aren't going to be able to keep this place running. Supplies are dwindling. Jobs are getting fewer and far between. And the last thing we need is the guards coming down here after you and finding.. things." His voice got softer as he spoke, more serious. His tone taking on an age she didn't know about him. In that moment he seemed so much older than he really was. The way he said 'things' made her stomach churn. She knew what he meant.

She knew what he was. A master thief. A pickpocket, lockpicker, sneaker.. she was the complete opposite. Or so he thought. Then it clicked in her mind. The reason he pulled back so much, the reason he kept making those snide comments about how he was bad news. He thought she was too good for him! For the guild. That was why he hadn't asked her for help. She shifted under his touch and stared up at him stubbornly. It was high time she showed him what she could do. Who she was. What she was.

"Brynjolf, " She began, her tone serious. "I want to be part of the guild. Give me a job." Her shoulders squared as she spoke, her jaw setting stubbornly as she saw him shaking his head. She figured he was going to tell her no. Or at the very least insist she stay hidden in these damned walls until Phiro got a plan together. Once these thoughts registered, she held up a hand to cut him off. Making sure he couldn't say anything against the idea.

"I know I can do it, Brynjolf. I've had to steal things to survive out there since I got out of Helgen. I've had to sneak past guards while they were sleeping. I've had to hide in the shadows and disappear. I'm good at it. Damn good at it. I'm a damned good lock pick. Just a few tries and I've got it. Give me a chance to prove it.. all I ask is that chance." And she looked up at him with the most pleading expression she could muster, allowing her eyes to take on the expression of begging. She could see his resolve breaking, his inner turmoil. Finally he just shook his head. His shoulders slumped. She had won.

"Alright, Lass.. but if you can't do it.. you leave. You get out 'a there before anythin' bad can happen.. are we clear?" He asked, more like told, her. His eyes were hard, protective, worried. But he was going to give her her chance. Her chance to show him she wasn't that much better than he was. She smiled brightly and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her form as close to his as she could. She laughed to herself, and said 'thank you' about twelve times before she shot out of bed and moved to put on her dress. She didn't even care that he was watching her.

She slid the arms of the slit off of her and allowed the fabric to fall and pool at her ankles. She knew his eyes were on her, looking over the scars on her back. The scars on her shoulders. The scars on her legs. She didn't really mind. Her cloths hid what they needed to. She leaned over to grab the dress off the table and slipped it over her head, before adjusting it to fall down to her ankles. Then she grabbed the string and used it to tie up the skirt just above her knees. So she could move around freely, without the heaviness of the skirts in her way.

She turned back to face him and cleared her throat so that he remembered she was still standing there. She smiled a sheepish grin his way, her eyes twinkling with a slight bit of excitement. "Well, are you going to give me the job or what?"


	3. Kiss of Nightshade

_**A/N:**__ Sorry it's been so long since I updated. Was working on the Thieves Guild quests once more to get the story line right and writing a couple of chapters or so. I've got this one done now and finally ready to submit! Special thanks to my Beta; Drkonkers. She helped me get past a few things and added her own touch somewhere in here._

_Yes there is a slight bit of smut in this chapter; so read at your own risk. Will update more in the following days. Review if you like it! Or simply favorite it. (:_

_Lastly; ENJOY!_

* * *

Chapter Three: Kiss of Nightshade

Alanah cheerfully made her way into the main room, into the Ragged Flagon. She inhaled sharply through her nose, allowing the scent of the cedars and musk to enter her nostrils. She caught the slightest hint of tobacco mixed in with pine needles, and a smile found its way up her lips, before the person even said anything. She turned to look just as the girl was creeping up behind her, and she raised one of her brows challengingly at the girl. Her lips curling into a triumphant smirk.

"Dammit, Alanah!" Vex cursed, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest. She stuck out her lowerlip in a slight pout and turned to gaze up at Alanah. Alanah grinned brightly, her grin getting wider as Vex continued to mumble a long string of profanities and glower at the spot just above Alanah's shoulder.

"Sorry, Vex." Alanah laughed, shaking her head at the girl. She knew she had been trying to sneak up on her ever since she got there. She'd earned the girls affections simply by hearing her coming and springing on her. Now that she thought about it, it was sheer luck she heard her the first time. She laughed once more and tapped the girl's forehead.

"It's like you've got eyes in the back of your head!" Vex said, throwing her arms up in the air to show how frustrated she was. She rolled her eyes and looked down to hide her embarrassment. Alanah couldn't help the smile that found its way to her lips.

"Sometimes, I think I just have heightened hearing, but you almost got me this time, if that makes you feel any better." Alanah said, both teasing and trying to comfort the girl. Vex only blushed a darker shade of red and took off for the other room. Leaving Alanah almost howling with laughter. But that laughter was cut short when Mercer moved into her line of site and motioned her over with a simple flick of his wrist. She felt the familiar bile rise in her throat as she glanced around to be sure it was her he was addressing. Sure enough, she was the only one even remotely close to where he was looking.

Sighing, she managed to shuffle her way over to where he was leaning on the bar. She could smell the bitter scent of Alto Wine on his breath; and unlike Brynjolf's sweet scent, Mercer's was revolting. She fought the urge to wrinkle her nose and looked up at him with a 'what do you want' look. He merely shrugged and gestured for her to sit down beside him on a stool, taking to sitting in one himself. Alanah sighed and sat down on the stool upwind from him. That way his scent wasn't so strong.

"Yes, Mercer?" She asked, fighting the annoyance that tried to sneak it's way into her tone. He smiled an ugly, and tobacco-stain-toothed, smile in her direction. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but that didn't mean she didn't see the glint behind them. Mischief. _Shit. What's he up to?_ She thought, glancing down at the empty bar top in front of her. He cleared his throat and she made herself look up at him. She drew her brows up questioningly one last time, willing him to speak.

"You wanted a job, did you not? Or are you not up to the task, Alanah?" He asked, his right brow slowly moving up in a challenging fashion. He was taunting her. And the way he said her name, she felt the bile threatening to spill over. She bit into her lip and shook her head, allowing herself a moment to calm down before she decided to speak again.

"Oh, I want the job, Mercer. What did you have in mind?" She asked him, fighting her tone and trying to keep her expression guarded. Emotionless. Maybe once she proved herself, he'd ease up on her. Stop hating her so much. That thought alone gave her some hope and kept her from tapping her foot in annoyance at his need for suspense.

"Alright then, there is a job. It will be considered your initiation, into the guild. If you pull this off, I will have faith in your… Abilities, and consider you an asset to this family." He said each word slowly, deliberately trying to undermine her intelligence. She bit into her lip and scowled, nodding impatiently for him to continue. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, though, Brynjolf came bursting into the flagon. And damn if he didn't look angry.

"Mercer! What is the meanin' of this blasphemy?" He shouted from the other side of the flagon. She could swear there was steam coming out of his ears. His tone alone made her shrink in her seat, biting her lip and avoiding his eyes. She guessed it had something to do with her. It usually always did. She was always causing trouble between the two of them.

Mercer stood from the seat at the bar and turned, leaning back against the bar once more. He merely smirked in Brynjolf's direction, not at all affected by the bigger man's anger. Or the threat under his tone. "I'm giving her the job she asked for, Brynjolf. Or do you not think she can handle it? Have you lost faith in your little minx?" His tone was taunting, and she could swear that when he said 'minx' Brynjolf's shoulders stiffened and his eyes blazed with a burning anger. Even she didn't dare speak a word to deny the fact. If she had, she was almost certain it would only make matters worse.

"It's not that I don't have faith in my 'minx'," and he looked over at her as he said it, his face softening the second he saw her and said the word; winking in her direction and chuckling as she started to blush. She turned to look at the countertop again, hiding her blush. "It's that even our little Vex couldn't get the job done, and you're going to send a rookie in instead? It's blasphemous, Mercer! You could get her killed." His tone got darker as he went on, and the way he said 'killed', she could swear there was venom in his words. He was beyond angered. Even the little joke he tried to throw her way couldn't cover that up.

But underneath his concern for her, there was surely doubt. And that doubt made her heart sink into her stomach and ache painfully against her ribcage. She stood up to her feet and turned to face him, willing herself to hold her own despite his anger. She gripped her fists at her sides, fighting her own rising anger. "I can do it, Brynjolf, or do you really doubt me so?" She asked, her eyes moving up to rest on his, the hurt behind her own being shown full boar. Only to him. He stepped back a few steps, not expecting her reaction, she bet. But the way she saw it, it served him right for doubting her. Even if he was just being protective of her and looking out for her safety. Afterall, that was his job, was it not?

"I have faith in you, lass. I just don't want to be burryin' you so soon. It'd be my fault if you got hurt." He was almost pleading with her. She felt her stomach knot in that familiar tingle when she heard his concerned tone, the way he was looking at her and the expression of affection in his eyes. She shivered slightly under his gaze. But quickly wrapped her arms around herself to make it seem as if she were just cold, looking down at the hard stone floor as if it was the source of the shiver.

"I think she can do it too, Brynjolf. I'm just testing her abilities. Giving her a chance to prove to not only me, but to everyone else here, just how much of an asset she would be to us. If she can get this job done clean then we'll not only have a large sum of gold come our way, but we'll have a new client to give us jobs. We'd be set for months, if not a full season," Mercer told him, moving to stand at his side. He put his hand on Brynjolf's shoulder and smiled at his old friend. Patting his shoulder in reassurance. "She can do it, ol' buddy," he said once more.

Brynjolf heaved a heavy sigh, giving into the two of them. Alana felt like she had cheated him, allowing Mercer to anger her and get her into agreeing to the job. The job she didn't even know about yet. She sighed to herself, defeated. She couldn't win for losing. Mercer took that as his cue and made his way out of the main room, leaving the two of them standing there, facing each other with defeated expressions for different reasons. Her feeling a slight bit sick and him feeling as if he was setting her up to get hurt. Or worse.

She reached out and placed her hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding underneath her touch. Slowly she moved closer and rested her other hand on his hip bone; cupping the indention his bones left on his skin. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against his chin, inhaling his familiar and calming scent. "Bryn…" She began, not daring to look up at him, for fear he'd see just how much she cared for him. Her stomach knotted up when she felt him place one of his hands on the hollow of her back, just between her shoulders. He wasn't completely touching her, but it still sent electric shocks through her skin.

"Aye, lass…?" He whispered, the familiar husky tone entering his voice that she had heard the night before. When she had her nightmare, or memory. Whichever you'd consider it to be. He slowly started to rub the bare skin below his fingertips, his breathing picking up when she stiffened in front of him. The warmth radiating from his skin made her shiver and press slightly against his form. She felt so small, there, standing just in front of him, their forms barely touching. Her tiny waist level with his hips, her chest against his ribcage, and her forehead against his chin.

"I want to do this, to take this job. I want to prove to the others- No, I want to prove to you that I can do this. That I, Alanah Dova, am able to be an asset to the Thieves Guild. Able to hold my own and become a permanent addition," she whispered, her tone full of determination. Stubborn determination. She leaned back to look up at him. Still standing so close to him she could smell the scent of mint on his breath, mixed in with the familiar honey from his mead. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent slowly. Allowing it to relax her, to wash away the dirty feeling Mercer's presence left on her.

Before she had time to open her eyes, he moved back a few paces and looked down at his boots. She felt a sting of hurt in her heart, and the hand that was over his moved to rest over her own heart. She bit back the feelings in her throat, fighting the tears that burned her ducts and looked away from him. It felt like he had rejected her, even if she had yet to make an advance. She knew why he pulled away and respected it. Agreed, even. But it didn't make it hurt any less. He kept his hand on her shoulder instead of her back, and he started to give her shoulder a squeeze.

She looked up at him slowly, still fighting the treacherous tears. He managed a weak smile, and despite her mood, she started to return it instantly. Something about seeing him smile made her smile in return. Made her want to see the smile there all the time. It made him look so much more youthful when he looked at her that way. When he grinned at her that way. "You get the job done and you come straight back to me. Ya hear me, lass?" His voice still husky and taking on a protective edge. "An' if you get in any trouble there, you come straight back to me." She nodded her head, looking up him with a weak smile. "And lastly, if you make it out'a there in one piece, I just might teach you a few things I know about bein' a thief." He smiled crookedly at her, taunting her and peaking her interest. She was definitely curious what he'd show her. And her stomach knotted again with that familiar tingle.

She got the sudden urge to move closer to him, to touch his jaw with her fingertips. To run her fingers along the contours of his cheekbones, his jaw line and his neck. To feel his skin under them and feel the roughness of the stubble just on his chin. But she felt foolish for it at the same time. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating hear. To soothe it enough for it to stop hammering in her ears. She got the urge to say something to him, and before she could think better of it; she said the words out loud.

"And just what," she whispered, stepping closer to him again, "will you show me?" She felt her heart pound in her chest as she whispered those words, her eyes moving to gaze up at his. She felt bold for saying it the way she did, but something in the tone of his. Something in the warmth he was giving off. In his smell. In the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her, made her say it the way she had; alluringly. She felt silly after she'd said it, foolish. She was just a girl! What she thinking?

But before she could pull away from him or cover it up with a joke, his arms were around her waist and pulling her closer to him, pressing her body flat against his and leaning his nose in her silver hair. She closed her eyes and let a gasp escape her lips, her body tingling all over with each spot his flesh touched her own. She heard his breath in her ear, shivering against him; and it only made him press her closer. "Alanah…" He moaned, his tone becoming more gruff and husky than it had been before. "You make it very hard for this ol' man to control himself."

She gasped once more, a whimper of a sound as she heard him say her name like that. She wanted to tangle her fingers in his hair, pull him closer to her, rake her nails down his shoulders, and say his name the same way he had said hers all at once. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him. She just wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. Giving their bodies time to calm down. She felt… Exposed. Self-conscious and even bare at that moment. No longer sure of herself or anything she was doing. She tilted her head slowly to look up at him, and found him gazing down at her. The look in his eyes was not easy to mistake; hunger, a burning and lustful hunger.

* * *

Brynjolf bit into his lip as he gazed down at her. She had no idea the effect she had on him. The way he made her have to fight inwardly with himself every second of the day if he was ever to even get a wink of sleep! Or get the job done. Ever since she'd had that nightmare, since he'd walked in to see her in a heap on her bed with her sorry excuse for a gown barely covering her luscious curves. Since she'd whimpered his name when he came to sit by her and almost screamed it as he went to get the water. Since she'd shown just how much she needed him, when she'd called out his name so vulnerably.

She was all he could think about. And that was saying a lot. Since most of his day was spent doing petty jobs around the Flagon and getting things settled for the other members. As the co-leader of the Guild it was his job to ensure they could get what they needed to done. That they could come and go as they pleased without the worry of the guards all the time. Or without the worry of having to hide bodies and carry that burden the rest of their lives of taking a life. And here she was, just waltzing into his life and throwing his resolve into Oblivion.

He tried to think clear thoughts as he felt her pressed so close against him. So close he could smell the scent of earth and nightshade on her skin; a scent that reminded him of how moon sugar is to the Kahjiit folk. Poison to the heart, but the best high you can get in all of Tamriel. He bit into his lip as he gazed down into her amber iris's, forgetting himself for a moment. He leaned down to brush his lips once more against her forehead. He felt the heat radiating off of her skin and could swear he heard her gasp when his lips touched her temple.

"Alanah.. " He whispered quietly, looking down at her with as much calm as he could. She tilted her head upwards, gazing up at him with that innocent expression she seemed to wear when he was this close to her. "If you don't pull away I may do something we both will regret…" He told her, summoning up all of his resolve and trying to pull himself away from her. Her hands moved to rest on his chest once more, and he shivered as he felt the touch through his armor. She seemed to be deciding what to do, she looked so confused and he just couldn't help himself.

Brynjolf leaned down, closer to her. So close he could smell the scent of fresh honey and mint on her breath. She whispered his name quietly, her voice cracking with the same emotions he felt. That was all he needed to hear, her saying his name like that; and then he pressed his lips roughly against hers. At first her mouth was firm, unmoving; but the second he started to move his, hers responded. In moments her lips were parted and their tongues were battling for dominance. His was winning, but hers wasn't going down without a fight. He moved his hands to the small of her back, gripping the fabric of her dress in his fists and pressing her as close to him as he could.

Her arms circled his neck and he started guiding her back towards the bar counter. They were almost at the bar when he heard the door swing open at the opposite end of the Flagon. If it hadn't been for the pillar in the center of the room with crates of supplies stacked up, they would have been seen. Disheveled and out of breath, latched onto each other as if life depending on it. They immediately drew away from each other, faces flushed with embarrassment and anger at being caught. Straightening their clothes, they turned to watch as Vex and Delvin walked into the Flagon. Laughing at some harmless joke, no doubt.

Vex and Delvin didn't even look at them. Not that they really cared. They were both staring at the floor and trying desperately not to look at each other. Anything to keep Vex and Delvin from knowing what they stopped, what they walked in on. Brynjolf groaned and moved to sit at the furthest table from the bar, in a darkened corner. Alanah moved silently behind him, as if she were afraid of being away from him. He sank into the chair and let out a defeated, quiet sigh. He was this close to taking advantage of Alanah and he didn't like it. He was angry at himself. Both for it not going further, and for it going as far as it did.

He still felt the heat in his loins, the burning passion for her. And for her alone. He still felt the warmth of her flesh against his, leaving an aching absence once he looked her way. She was flushed, breathing heavy. Her dress was all out of sorts, and her hair had fallen out of its usual braids at the crown of her head. He leaned over and fixed her dress, but couldn't fix her hair. He figured she could come up with some excused when Vex noticed it. He leaned back in his seat just as Vex turned to look at them. Alanah seemed more composed as she reached for the mug of honningbrew mead on the table. She slowly sipped at it while Vex and Delvin moved to sit with them.

"Did you hear that Alanah's going to do the Goldenglow estate job?" Vex asked Brynjolf, disbelief and admiration in her tone. She looked from Delvin to Alanah, then to Brynjolf and back a few times. She was happy for her friend, but severely jealous of her at the same time. Not only because she was getting the toughest job the guild had ever gotten, but also because she saw the way all the men looked at her in the Guild. That had been her before Alanah had shown up. Except for Phiro. He'd never even taken a liking to her, even when she'd snuck into his bed one night and offered herself to him. He hadn't even looked her over. He'd simply sent her on her way.

Delvin nodded his head as she looked at him, gushing about how amazing it would be to be in Alanah's shoes. "She's goin' to be getting' all the riches, I betcha!" He cooed at her, elbowing her playfully. Alanah just laughed and elbowed him playfully in return. Laughing, Vex turned to look at Brynjolf. "And I heard you almost ripped Mercer's head clear off when you heard! I betcha you were just worried about your little… what was the word he used?" She tapped her chin as she thought it over, before her eyes lit up. "Minx. Your little minx." And she started howling with laughter. In moments, all of them were cackling so loud the rest of the Guild decided to come in and join them for a few drinks.

"Vex, what can you tell me about the estate? It's my understanding that you've been in once before. Do you know of any secret entrances or maybe a way to get in undetected?" Alanah asked, resting her elbows on the tabletop and leaning closer to her friend who sat across from her. Vex nodded her head and started filling her in on the details. On the hidden entrance into the basement and even on the wall she could follow to get to the bee hives unseen. Delvin added on a few comments about the layout and about the easiest way to get into the safe, even the direction to turn her lockpick.

Alanah's heart swelled with the amounts of affection she felt. The love she felt from her friends and almost-lover. The fact that they would go out of their way just to make the job easier for her was enough to make the emotions overwhelming. She wasn't used to this. At all. She bit into her lip to fight the emotions and excused herself, saying she'd had too much to drink and needed to rest before the job the next morning. Brynjolf stood and offered to escort her and she kindly declined, saying she didn't want to rob him of a good story since Vex was just starting to boast about her most recent fishing job.

* * *

Alanah walked into Brynjolf's room and closed the door quietly behind her, suddenly feeling exhausted and off balance. Moving towards the bed, she reached behind her to untie her dress straps and let it gather at her feet. Stepping out of the thin fabric, she moved to the bed and drew back the covers. She didn't even bother to put on her slit tonight, just crawled under the warm blankets and turned over to face the wall. Her body was exhausted from the events of the day, but her mind wouldn't stop running. Wouldn't shut off. She couldn't shake the feelings she had.

Her thoughts moved back to the heated kiss, and her lips once more felt like fire. Like his lips were against hers, or his tongue was once more slipping between them. She felt her skin flush and felt the familiar tingle in her abdomen at the memory. She whimpered and turned over on her back; sliding the blankets down to rest just above her knees and leave her chest bare to the cool night air. To the crisp air that his room was always full of when the fire wasn't burning in the hearth.

Her eyes automatically moved to look at the hearth as she remembered her first night here. Sitting there with Phiro and Brynjolf and discussing everything she remembered. Everything she'd done since she was in Helgen. Which wasn't too much. Bits of things to get by, bits of things to help others when she could. She felt a slight tinge of guilt as she remembered Phiro. What would he have said if he had been the one to walk in on them in their embrace, kissing in that heated manner? She was almost positive it would not have been pretty, not at all. She bit into her lip and turned back to the wall, fighting her brain. Willing it to shut down.

Slowly, her mind started to clear and she started to drift into the realm of dreams. She was just about to fall asleep when she heard the door open, then close immediately after. She thought the person must have noticed she was asleep and left the room, so she started to drift once more. Quietly, the person moved to sit on the edge of her bed and rested a hand on her shoulder. She could smell sunshine on his skin and the scent of snowberries and water. But that didn't stop her from jumping slightly and snapping awake.

He whispered one word to her, quietly; "Alanah…?" It was Phiro's voice, so soft and comforting. She slowly rolled over to gaze at him, her expression slightly confused. "Phiro…?" She groaned groggily, trying to focus her eyes on his features. He chuckled softly at the whine in her voice and nodded his head. She forced her tired eyes open and gazed up at him; confused. When did he get here, and why was he in her room? Er... Brynjolf's room.

"I can't stay for long... I just wanted to see you before I had to leave. And tell you I've almost got it all settled. I've paid off your bounty, but getting us safe travel is proving… difficult." He said, his eyebrows drawing together in his familiar and serious scowl. She bit into her lip as she nodded her head, the guilt getting worse. She was down here locking lips with his Guild Brother while he was on the surface trying to save her hide. "I'm sorry I woke you, Vex and Delvin assured me you were already asleep… but I had to see you first." He told her, smiling softly at her once more. She again found herself wondering if what Brynjolf told her was true. If he was smitten over her. And if it was true, then how did she feel for him in return?

"I see..." She whispered quietly, her voice cracking slightly. She prayed he would mistake it for her being tired instead of her feeling guilty. Even if she felt that what her and Brynjolf were doing was... right, at the same time it wasn't. She shook her head and looked up at him, managing a small smile. "I'm glad you came to see me."

"I know you are and I won't bother you much longer," he told her, kissing her forehead softly. He smiled back at her before he started running his fingers through her hair. No doubt taking notice of the way her hair had fallen out of it's usual brains at the crown; then pooled into the rest that usually rested on her shoulders. "I heard about the job, so I know you need your rest," he paused. "And I just wanted to say, good luck. I know you don't need it, but take it with you just the same. I won't be back for a few days, so don't worry if I'm gone for longer than a week. Only worry if I've been gone for a month or longer," he told her, stroking the side of her head gently. He leaned down to kiss her forehead once more before he got off the bed and made his way to the door.

She lay there quietly, confused as he left the room. Feeling slightly disoriented when he closed the door without saying a word.

* * *

Just as she started to fall back asleep the door opened once more. And in walked Brynjolf, holding a sweetroll and a tankard. She figured it was full of milk, too.

"You up, lass?" He called out to her, lighting a small candle in the opposite side of the room. She gripped the blankets close around her torso and sat up; nodding her head. She felt dizzy for a moment before she felt calm, watching him move over to the bed. He sat in the same spot Phiro had and offered her the sweetroll. She reached for it and slowly started to eat it, the familiar sweetness making her feel giddy and happy, like a child. He held the tankard out to her and she took it gratefully, sipping at the cool milk. In moments the sweetroll was gone and so was the milk. She smiled sheepishly up at him.

"I'm sorry, Bryn. I didn't realize how hungry I was." And she looked down at her lap, fidgeting with her blanket. He chuckled softly at her and shook his head, lifting her chin and looking into her eyes. "It's quite alright, lass. I figured you'd be hungry. You forgot to eat anything before you came to lay down." She felt the shockwaves go through her body the second his fingers lifted her chin. The second they touched her flesh she felt her breath catch in her throat. Felt the heat rush to her core.

He noticed the change in her eyes, the way his touch sent sparks of heat down her spine. The way she shivered and her breath hitched. The second he saw the expression in her eyes, his groin started to tighten and heating up. The same want and desire creeping up his spine and making it hard for him to breathe, to keep a steady heartbeat. He dropped his hand slowly and watched as she stopped holding the blanket up on her torso. He caught a glimpse of the sugary frosting still on her lips from the sweetroll, and found himself licking his own lips, wanting to lean in and kiss her to taste it.

She noticed him looking hungrily at her lips, the burning passion underneath that hunger. She stopped holding the blanket up on her chest and let it fall to rest in a pool at her waist. Revealing her exposed torso. His eyes drifted down slowly, deliberately, to her chest, lapping up every detail. As if on cue, the candle in the corner of the room went out and they were left in complete darkness. In the moments she had for her eyes to adjust; he had her on her back under him on the bed and was hovering just over her form.

She gasped when he pressed down on top of her; allowing her to take in the full force of his body. To inhale his scent of cedar, mint, and honey mixed with earth. The musky scent that both comforted and drove her crazy. He leaned down to slowly slide his tongue around the details of her bottom lip; tasting the icing of the sweetroll and licking it clean before his lips pressed against hers once more. Instantly, her body reacted to him and her arms slid out from under him to rest her hands on the small of his back. She gripped his armor-covered flesh and pushed him closer to her, acting solely on instinct.

His tongue darted out between his lips and slid sneakily past hers, lapping around ever crevice of her mouth. Tasting the familiar taste of the icing and the bitter yet sweet taste of the milk he laced with honey. He groaned into her mouth and pressed down onto her hips; allowing her to feel just the effect she had on him. He heard her moan into his mouth and pulled back to rest his forehead on her shoulder.

"Lass, if you aren't sure about this now you'd better say so. Because if you don't stop me… I won't end up leaving this here room for the rest of the night." He panted against her, his words both a warning and plea. She squirmed under him, making him groan in response, and then stiffened as she felt him against her hips.

"I-i," She stammered, trying to think coherently. Instead of answering, she whimpered his name once more. The same way she had in the Flagon earlier that night. And he couldn't take it anymore, he had to have her. He moved to press his lips to the hollow of her neck, and slowly slide his tongue over the sensitive flesh. Sliding down towards her collarbone and exposed chest. He started moving his lips further down, his tongue leaving a wet trail of saliva. Her hands gripping onto the back of his armor and sliding up as he moved further down. She gasps as his lips moved to the spot just above her cleavage, and she whimpered out his name once more.

And just before his lips touched her breasts…she woke up in his bed, panting and gasping. Covered in sweat and blankets, no evidence that it hadn't been a dream.


	4. Enter Vilkas

_**A/N:**__ Okay, sorry guys. This took me forever to decide on how to word and when to end it. . I know it__'s nowhere NEAR as long as my previous chapters.. __But I think the next few chapters to come will make up for that. _

_In the next few chapters there MAY, and I stress the MAY part, be a bit of smut between two males characters. Call it.. A bit of experimentation. Something that was suggested to me by a reader. And I think the idea is kind of interesting and would play out an interesting part later in my story. So if you don__'t like it; don't read it. Kthnx c:_

Chapter Four: Enter Vilkas

Alanah started to creep past the guards as they slept noisily on the wooden planks of the dock just outside of the Goldenglow Estate. Her footsteps were muffled by the sloshing of the tide against the shore of the small island and her movements were quiet. Calculated. Practiced.

Silently she slid along the length of the wooden fence, keeping her head below the spikes of their tips so that she could not be detected by those watching over the gates and patrolling the island's borders while the others slept. Slowly, she made her way over to the sewage entrance Vex had described to her. She lifted the rusty lid off the tunnel and took one last glance over her shoulder before pushing off with her toes and slipping into the sewage tunnel.

She landed in a slight crouch, with one fist and knee on the ground and her eyes looking straight ahead. There was no sign of anyone being down there, but she didn't dare wait for someone to show up. Standing, she pulled the mask to her cowl up over her lips and nose and took off in a sprint towards the end of the tunnel. To the door into the estate. She didn't hear footsteps, didn't even hear breathing, so she didn't slow down.

She rounded the corner quickly and turned to gaze over at the door. It was slightly ajar and she cautiously pulled it open to reveal an empty room. In the corner was a skeever chewing on a rotten apple. She wrinkled her nose in disgust before sinking into her familiar crouch and pulling out her bow. Taking a deep breath, she locked her eye on the skeever as she pulled out her arrow and hooked it into place just on top of her index finger.

She watched as the skeever ate the apple and allowed it to finish before she released the arrow and watched as it flew silently through the air and found its mark in the side of the things head. She shook her head and glanced around the room once more before darting over to retrieve her arrow and put it back in her sheath before she moved to the door at the opposite end of the room and opened it. Walking into a room with a ladder.

She glanced up at the old, rotten ladder and cursed quietly. She wasn't big. However, she was no Vex. She was taller and had a good few pounds on the girl. Would this thing hold her weight? She didn't have time to think it over because the sounds of far off voices caught her attention and she ascended the ladder quickly and quietly before emerging just in front of one of the estate's doors. She quietly moved over and knelt in the shadows picking the lock, before she slipped quietly inside.

Slipping inside, she moved to flatten her form against the wall to her right. Slowly taking baby steps as she rounded the corner and gazed into the room across from her. Three men. However, she had been told no bloodshed... but that she would be forgiven if she killed the marauders. How could she tell them apart? She cursed under her breath and withdrew her bow once more, hooking two arrows in her hand as she tilted the bow to lay level with her breasts. Aiming for the first one's shoulders, she released the arrows. Watching them fly through the air with a trained eye, she smiled as they landed just above the man's shoulders and pinned him to the wall.

The arrows wouldn't hold for long, but they would hold out until she got out of here. She knocked two more sets and pinned the other two men before she slipped quietly through the hallway. She found little more resistance as she rounded the corners and turns, finding her way to the staircase to the upper quarters easily. She felt confident, but she didn't let that cloud her judgment. All it would take is for one of those men to scream loud enough to alert someone else.

She could hardly hear them upstairs and to her ears, it sounded as if they were just brawling, so she figured whoever was upstairs wouldn't take notice to the sounds. Sure enough, upstairs she met one last man. He was easy to pin, he didn't even hear her coming. Therefore, she pinned him to his chair. She slipped up behind him and whispered something to him, and he stiffened, nodding his head.

"I'd rather not have to kill you.. So please.. Just stay there until I get what I need and leave. Your men downstairs are in similar positions to yours, and they will need your help. Understood?" In addition, she patted his head lightly when he nodded before turning to the door in front of her. She reached up to rub her mask covered chin quietly before kneeling and slipping her lockpick into the lock, a few clicks to the right and she had it open.

The man inside was expecting her, fear in his eyes. She knew he wouldn't put up a fight. He was cowering in a corner, rocking himself back and forth. His eyes were full of both fear and loathing. She didn't blame him. She'd quietly snuck into his home and taken out all his guards for all he knew. And here he was, a common person. How would he stand a chance against her?

She knelt down in front of him, laying her bow on the ground to show she didn't want to be violent. She wanted to talk. He slowly started to relax, looking up at her with a confused expression. She guessed he was used to them being far more violent. She reached up with that same hand that put her bow down to remove her mask, showing him her face. He stared at her with disbelief and she grinned softy.

"I don't want to have to get violent.. I just want whatever it is that's in that safe in the basement. Now I'm not an expert lockpicker, so I'd rather use the key.." She began, making sure her tone was gentle and not dangerous; but holding a slight hard edge to it. So he knew she meant business. "So, if you don't mind.. I'd like that key. I won't tell anyone that you gave it to me.." She told him, and the fear came back into his eyes. He shook his head violently.

Stammering, he told her everything he knew. "I sold the estate.. I just wasn't making enough anymore, and Maven was making it harder and harder for me to keep the honey sales up. This person just sent a messenger and a large sum of gold to me almost a month ago. If Maven founds out, I'm as good as dead!" He almost yelled, getting hysterics.

She put her hand on his shoulder and stared intently into his eyes, whispering to him calmly as if she was cooing to a child. "Shh.. no one is going to hurt you. I won't let them know about that. And you can take this," She said and gave him her coin purse, "And get the hell out of here before they realize what happened. All right? I won't tell anyone I even saw you here."

He stared up at her with disbelief, why was she so kind when the other thieves would have given him up? She was new, wasn't she. He shook his head and nodded in her direction, reaching out to take the coin purse full of coins. He felt guilty for taking it, but she was offering and he wasn't going to go back on that. She was saving his life and ending at the same time. Was she the devil or a saint? He couldn't decide. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the key, giving it to her in place of the coin purse.

"Thank you.. Now, get out of here. Quickly. Your guards will know I'm here and try to kill me.. But don't worry about me. Just get out of here. If I know Maven, she's watching. Take the sewer exit and follow the wall to the main road. I have a horse there. Untie her and get as far away from here as you can." She told him, standing and turning her back to him to walk out of the room.

"Wait.." He called to her, almost panicked once more. "What is your name?"

"My name.. Is Nightshade." She told him, turning to look at him with a small smile. Brynjolf said she smelled of nightshades. Perhaps that was a good name for a thief, eh? The man managed a small smile in return and nodded his head. She tossed him something from her bag and exited the room. Moving towards the basement stairs.

She had little trouble getting there, and even fewer getting inside. Inside the basement was a desk, a few lanterns, some storage space and a wall with a safe pressed against it. She moved to the safe and knelt down just as a blade pressed to the back of the throat. Her blood ran cold. She'd come this far only to be caught. She cursed to herself and rose to her feet.

She put her hands out where the assailant could see them and slowly turned around to face the person. She blinked repeatedly. He looked like Brynjolf. Only his hair was much darker, ebony colored. His nose was sharper, his stubble was more full. Almost a full on beard. But his eyes were what caught her attention. Curious and shocked. And they were full of disbelief.

"Well.. I find it hard to believe you're the one that bested all those guards up there." He told her, eyeing her form and even the bow on her back. He just couldn't add it up, she guessed. She shrugged her shoulders and scowled up at him. How dare he undermine her skill simply because she was small and feminine.

"I did best them.." She told him, "But I did not kill them. It's not my way." She shifted her weight to one of her feet and tapped the other impatiently. Moving to cross her arms over her chest and raise one of her brows. Was he going to kill her or just stand there taunting her? For Oblivion's sake, she hated suspense.

Slowly he lowered his sword and put it in the sheath at his side. "Well.. If you did, then I'm a fool to lower my sword to you. And if you didn't, I'm sparing your life. What brings you here, little lady?" He taunted her, tapping his foot in time with hers. She glowered up at him, sizing him up. He was at least twice her size with at least two times as much muscle as Brynjolf. She'd be a fool to try to fight him this close.

She sighed to herself, a defeated sound and glanced back at the safe. "I was hired to get the contents of that safe back to someone important. Why are you here?" And then she turned her eyes back to his. His eyes lit up with understanding, he knew what she was now. Or at least what faction she was said to belong to.

"I was told to guard those contents and the old owner of this estate with my life. So it looks like we're at a standstill. I can't let you take those and you can't leave without them." And he raised one of his brows in a challenge, as if he wanted her to find a compromise for the two of them. She got an idea and smiled sweetly at him, reaching up to pull the cowl completely off her face. So that her silver locks hung loosely around her waist in slight cascades.

She saw the way he looked at her then, appraising her features. The curves under her thin armor, and the beautiful locks that were on her head. The corner of his mouth slipped up into a smile and he shook his head slowly. His guard was falling. She smirked to herself and reached up to undo one of the buttons of her armor, just enough to reveal her cream colored skin above her chest. That was all it took, his guard was down completely.

In just seconds, her bow was drawn and two arrows lodged into the armor just above his shoulder and he went flying back into the wall. She smiled as she moved over to where he was, pinned. She put two more in the cloth of his trousers. To be sure, he couldn't sneak up on her again. She leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek and laughed slightly.

"See, the problem with men these days.. Is they underestimate us women because we're small and feminine. That was your mistake.. " And her eyes landed on his. "Vilkas." He spat at her, growling and struggling against her arrows. She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. He was only driving the arrows deeper into the wood behind him. She'd guess she had ten minutes top before it gave way.

"I am Nightshade, Vilkas. And as much as I would love to stay and bask in my victory, I can't. I have to get what's in that safe to the people I'm employed through. But do me a favor and don't underestimate me again. I'd like to see how you'd handle yourself in a real fight." And she patted his cheek softly before turning and moving back to the safe. She slid the key in, turning it to the left and unlocked it with a loud click.

She knew this would torture him more than anything she could do to him. Watching her take the contents and leave. She opened it up and glanced down at the deed and the sack of gold coins. She shook her head. The man upstairs was right, Maven was going to be very pissed. And what was this odd symbol? She grabbed the coin purse and the deed and stood up, turning to face him as she slipped the coin purse into her sack at her side and then moved her armor to reveal the tops of her breasts and slipped the deed in the inside pocket, before buttoning her armor back and winking at him.

He yelled obscenities at her as she left the room, running as fast as she could to the door she came in. The men were still there on the wall, trying to get free. And she'd guess they were almost free. She heard Vilkas getting louder, so she knew he'd gotten free somehow. "Shit!" She yelled, running past the room and pushing the door open. She slipped into the shadows and found the entrance to the sewage, not caring to put her cowl or mask back on before she jumped down inside. Landing in a familiar fashion.

Once her eyes adjusted, she ran for the room, then down the hallway and back to the entrance. She jumped up and hooked her hands on the outside grate, using her upper body strength to pull herself up and hooked one of her legs on it before she pushed off and rolled off the grate, landing in a heap on the grass. She barely had time to catch her breath before she heard Vilkas yelling at the guards to wake up and find her.

She got onto her feet and crouched down, running as fast as she could for the water. She had to burn the hives. But how, from a distance this great when he was looking for her. She saw a fort across the water and nodded. If she got up there, she could shoot an arrow at the hives and they'd burn. Right? She didn't have a choice, they were getting closer. She dove off into the water and swam as fast as she could to the other side.

Once on the other shore she leaned against the fort to catch her breath. She knew they couldn't see her this far out, they weren't that trained like she was. Or at least she hoped not. She took deep breaths to get her heart rate down before she took out one of her arrows and moved to the side of the fort where there was a torch on the wall. She dipped her arrow in some win she had on her person and lit it on fire. It blazed brightly and she knew it'd work. She smirked a bit more, confidence returning to her.

She closed her left eye and aimed with her right, holding her breath as she zeroed in on her target. Slowly she pulled the arrow back as far as she could, before letting it fly and watching as it blazed through the air. Looking like a fire bolt. It hit on of the beehives before lodging itself in another. Two were ablaze with one arrow! What luck! She dipped another arrow in the wide and lit it on fire, before shooting the last beehive and turning to disappear into the tree line.

I DID IT! She thought as she skipped her way through the ratway towards the Flagon. She had done it! She'd done the job, saved a man's life and done it without bloodshed. See if Brynjolf trusted her to do more jobs now. See if they all respected her now. Vex couldn't do it. Delvin couldn't do it. Even Mercer couldn't. She'd done what no one else in the guild had. She'd gotten in, snuck to the safe and everything.

She slipped into the Flagon quietly, and walked straight up to where Mercer was drinking with someone she didn't recognize. She reached into her armor and took out the deed, slamming it and the bag of coins down on the table. Then she turning and made her way to the bar for a drink of her own. She knew all eyes were on her because of the silence. She deliberately walked with more dignity than she ever had before.

She reached around the counter and grabbed a bottle of mead, sliding two coins onto the counter before she sat down and sipped at it. She heard the sound of the paper moving as Mercer opened the deed, and the bill of sale. She didn't even need to turn and look at him. She heard him count out the coins. She even heard him gasp in disbelief. She knew he was as surprised as she'd thought he would be.

"Ala-" He began, as she turned to face him. Her eyes cold and confident, she was staring at him the same way he'd stared at her when he thought she couldn't do it. "I mean, Nightshade.. "He raised a brow at the name, and she'd guessed word traveled fast here in Riften. "This is all that was in the safe, right? Nothing else?" She nodded her head in answer.

Everyone looked from her to him and back, the tension in the room almost enough to smother someone. He didn't believe she'd done the job, but the proof was right in his face. Everyone else didn't know what to think of it. She'd done the job! She'd gotten in and out without bloodshed and left a new name for herself in the process. And Mercer saying it with authority, it was going to stick.

"Then this isn't good at all.. " He said, reaching up to scratch at his chin. He shook his head, his eyebrows knotting up in confusion and concentration. He was thinking about something. "I'll get this to Maven.. er.. good job, Nightshade." He told her, awkwardly looking up at her across the room. She nodded once more to acknowledge what he'd said. "I'm sorry I doubted you.. Welcome to the family."

She nodded once more, before turning back to the bar. Everyone seemed to relax once eye contact broke between the two of him or her. Slowly, conversations started back up. Conversations about nothing in particular just the jobs they had done, spoils they had lost, splits they had to do to cover certain mistakes. Things of that nature. But one voice stood out among them when he came in, laughing with them when they told him of her success.

She just stayed there on her bar stool, sipping quietly at her mead. She didn't turn to look at him for the sting of his doubt was still there. The pain of her dream not being real. The burning of her lips at the memory of his against her own. The tingle she felt from her head all the way to her toes. She bit back the tears she felt, angry with herself for letting it get to her. She'd just done the hardest job of her life and here she was in a puddle of mush because he wouldn't bed her? Childish, she thought.

She reached up to wipe the treacherous tears with the back of her gloved hand and took a big swig of the mead, wincing as the mead burned her throat from the amount she swallowed. She heard him walk up behind her, but didn't expect him to touch her. He lifted her hair off the back of her neck and touched a sore spot. She hissed when he touched it and flew around to face him.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" She hissed, reaching up to cup the back of her neck and whine slightly when her hands touched it. His eyes were full of nothing but concern, and he shook his head at her in disbelief.

"Do ya not know yer hurt, lass?" He asked her in disbelief and anger, anger that she thought he'd hurt her on purpose and because she was hurt. Mercer was never going to hear the end of this, he swore his life on it. He moved her hands and put them in her face. They were covered in blood.

She drew her eyes together in confusion; then it hit her. Vilkas. "Damn him!" She hissed, moving to grab a rag off the bar and press it against the back of her neck. She glowered at the ground, refusing to meet Brynjolf's eyes.

"Him..?" He asked, kneeling to become level with her eyes. Her cheeks turned dark red, she didn't want to tell him about almost being killed like that. Or about taking advantage of the way the man looked at her to pin him to the wall. She bit her lip stubbornly and scowled at him. He impatiently reached up to take the rag from her. "Answer me, Lass." He ordered.

"Vilkas... " She told him, glancing down at her lap as he put the rag back on her wound. "I got into the house with little trouble at all. Only had to kill a skeever. But when I got in, I used my arrows to pin the guards one by one to the walls so that I could get in and out unseen and hurry the job up without killing anyone." She looked up at him to be sure he was following her lead. He nodded for her to continue.

"Well, I got upstairs and found the key sitting on the nightstand to the right of the bed. The man you mentioned wasn't even there. I went down to the basement, I swear it was empty when I got there.. but.. " She started, looking back down at her lap. "As I was opening the safe, someone came up behind me, put his sword to the back of my neck, and ordered me to stand up slowly with my hands above my head. I did as he asked. He saw I was a woman, and he underestimated me so I used my bow to pin him to the wall as well. Got the document, coin, and left. I didn't realize he'd nicked me." She told him honestly.

She reached up to move the rag and let her fingers feel the spot on her neck. It was small and shallow, it'd heal in a few days' time. Nothing major. And it wasn't bleeding badly. She looked back up at him. His expression was hard to discern. He seemed angry and proud in the same instance.

"So you pinned the bastard to the wall, did ya, lass?" He asked, laughing to himself and shaking his head. He stood and moved to gaze down at her wound. He poured a little of her mead on it and when she hissed, he told her to be still. She bit her lip, crossed her arms childishly over her chest, and did as she was told. He used some tape to seal it and then used a clean cloth to get the blood out of her hair. She nodded her head in answer to his question, a stubborn set of her jaw.

"Damn right I did!" She told him, excited despite herself that she had gotten out of it nearly unscathed. He snorted in response to what she'd said and simply shook his head, not giving her the benefit of a good argument or giving her the benefit of the doubt, either. She shook her head to herself and shifted on the stool, crossing one of her knees over the other and leaning back against the bar top. She let out a soft sigh as her neck started to numb.

Brynjolf looked over at her with slight concern, "Does it hurt, Alanah?" He asked her quietly. Kneeling to rest at eye level infront of her. And once against she was reminded of how much smaller she was than her attacker. She shook her head to answer him and just closed her eyes again. She tried to let her body and mind relax. She needed it, afterall. She'd gotten the job done with minimal casualties and had even earned the respect of her fellow guild members.

Her throat squeezed and almost choked her when she realized it was true, she'd done it. She was a part of their Guild now. Family. She softly pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked around at her friends. Brynjolf followed her gaze. She looked at each of their faces in turn. Vex, Vipir, Thrynn, Etienne, Cynric, Nruin, Delvin, Dirge, Vekel and Tonilita. They were all family. And all respected her.

Here they were toasting her job well done, after all. Drinking to her name, to her honor. To the coin she'd brought in for them. She had done it. Not someone else. She felt the pride sting at her heart, covering the feeling of hurt from being doubted. Because she had done it to prove a point; she'd done it to prove to them all she could do it.

Standing up, she started to make her way over to the entrance to her sleeping quarters, feeling somewhat dizzy and off balance. The room started to spin, colors flashing before her eyes faster than the speed of light. She reached out to grip at something, but instead she started to tumble downwards. Before she could hit the ground, though, everything went black.


	5. Snowflakes

_**A/N: **This chapter was extremely tricky for me. I wasn't quite sure how I wanted to introduce my new idea. And how I wanted _them_ to appear as part of the story. I didn't know how I'd get Brynjolf to meet Kodlak and not the others, so lets just say that on a whim; he decided to leave the companions home for a few minutes out of the day to take a leisurely stroll. However unlikely the idea may seem._

_I** do** understand also that** Vilkas and Farkas** are supposed to be** 'twins'**. But there was no** speculation** or even** suggestion** as to how far apart they are. Since that** could** be **minutes**, or a** day or two**, I decided to make Vilkas be older by age and Farkas by appearance. It would better go with **my** story. (:_

_**Also;** I wanted to thank everyone for their favorites! They mean the world to me. Especially since I wasn't sure how far this would go. . At all. Because I was going to stop writing by now if I hadn't gotten at least five favorites. Not that I would do so to be mean, just that without reviewers and readers there's no point to write; correct? Besides that, I have been getting a ton of requests for smut scenes later on in the chapters and I promise you; it may take me up to three more chapters but there **WILL** be full-on hardcore casual sex. You'll just have to be patient for me. This isn't a one-shot, it's a full on story. _

_ENJOY!_

* * *

The second I walked into the ratway, I knew she was still upset with me. The way her shoulders stiffened the second she heard my voice. The way she seemed to twitch as I laughed with the rest of them about her uncanny ability to do what no one else seemed to be able to do. She was a natural, that much was sure. But I couldn't help myself for having been worried about her safety. She was so small.. I only figured she needed to be treated as fragile as she seemed.

She just stayed there on her bar stool, sipping quietly at her mead. She didn't turn to look at me. And I didn't fail to notice how her shoulders sagged a bit when she went to wipe at her cheek. Was she crying? I wedged myself out of the tightknit circle I was in and made my way up to her, worried out of my mind she was hurt and wasn't telling anyone. I could smell the scent of salt in the air, and there wasn't musk to it so I knew she was crying.

I placed a hand on her shoulder and gently gave it a squeeze, but she didn't seem too affected by it other than to stiffen once more. Her shoulders slowly slumped and that's when the red against silver caught my eye. There was a tiny droplet of blood on her hair. My eyes got wide as I quickly scooped up the hair at the nape of her neck and leaned closer for inspection. There was a small cut, about the size of a kernel of corn.

I tentatively reached up to touch it, wondering why she hadn't batted my hand away sooner, only to hear her hiss in pain and spin around to face me. Anger appearant in her beautiful amber orbs.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" She hissed, reaching up to cup the back of her neck and whine slightly when her hands touched it. I couldn't believe this! She was hurt and didn't even have the slightest idea? I shook my head in disbelief.

"Do ya not know yer hurt, lass?" I all but yelled at her in disbelief and anger, anger that she thought I'd hurt her on purpose and because she was hurt; disbelief in the fact she hadn't noticed it before I did. Mercer was never going to hear the end of this. She'd felt she had to prove herself to him of all people, that's why she did the damned job. That's why she was urt now.

I grabbed her wrists gently and moved them from around her head, showing them to her so that she could see that her fingertips were tinted red from the blood touching her skin. She drew her eyes together in confusion and then in some sort of awed knowing.

"Damn him!" She hissed, moving to grab a rag off the bar and press it against the back of her neck. She glowered at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes. The stiffness in her posture told me she was upset and disappointed in herself. Who was 'him' exactly, though?

"Him..?" I gently coaxed, kneeling so that I could be at eye level with her. Resting my hands on her covered knees gently. Talking to her as if she were a child, being careful not to say anything to hurt her or make her clam up. I wanted a go at this jack rabbit who'd hurt her. Her cheeks turned dark red, and I found myself getting even more curious by the minute. But my curiosity seemed to only make her blush darker.

She started dabbing the rag at the back of her neck, deliberately ignoring my question. I impatiently reached up to take the rag from her. "Answer me, Lass." I whispered sternly, all but demanding any answer.

"Vilkas... " She whispered, glancing down at her lap as I put the rag back on her wound. Her eyes avoiding mine and the blush never leaving her cheaks. And the way she said his name so innocently, I felt my stomach knot with jealousy. "I got into the house with little trouble at all. Only had to kill a skeever. But when I got in, I used my arrows to pin the guards one by one to the walls so that I could get in and out unseen and hurry the job up without killing anyone."

She looked up at me to be sure I was following her lead and I merely nodded for comfirmation. Being sure I didn't let her read in my eyes how jealous I was feeling at the mere whisper of another man's name on her lips.

"Well, I got upstairs and found the key sitting on the nightstand to the right of the bed. The man you mentioned wasn't even there. I went down to the basement, I swear it was empty when I got there.. but.. " She hesitated, looking back down at her lap and fidgeting with the hem of her chest mail. "As I was opening the safe, someone came up behind me, put his sword to the back of my neck, and ordered me to stand up slowly with my hands above my head. I did as he asked. He saw I was a woman, and he underestimated me so I used my bow to pin him to the wall as well. Got the document, coin, and left. I didn't realize he'd nicked me."

She spoke the words so honestly, I had to believe them. Even if I figured there was more to the story than just 'he underestimated me'; but I decided not to pesture her further and instead settle with just checking on her wound. She moved the rag from her neck and reached up to touch the wound with her fingertips and I watched her eyes carefully. Looking for any sign of pain. She winced a slight bit, but not enough to worry me.

When she looked back up at me, I felt a stab of pride and anger all in the same moment. I was proud my little minx had gotten in and out, and even bested this Vilkas fellow, without killing a single person. She was surely just as good as everyone else thought she was. I guess my over protectiveness was getting in the way of my better judgement. I saw her eyes light up with confusion and knew she was reading my face, so I cleared my throat to distract her.

"So you pinned the bastard to the wall, did ya, lass?" I chuckled to myself. I moved to stand over her and gaze down at her wound, thankful when she tilted her head to the side so that I could better look at it. I reached over behind her, noticing how she shivered when I did so, and grabbed her cup of mead. I slowly poured a small amount on the wound and when she hissed, I scowled down at her and she stopped squirming only to nibble on her bottom lip and cross her arms over her chest. But she stayed still, so I wouldn't scold her even if she was being a bit childish.

"Damn right I did!" She all but squealed with excitement, delighted that she had gotten out of it nearly unscathed. I snorted to myself at her cocky attitude, not giving her the benefit of a good argument or giving her the benefit of the doubt, either. She shook her head to herself and shifted on the stool, crossing one of her knees over the other and leaning back against the bar top. She let out a soft sigh and I raised one of my brows. This only caused her cheeks to tint that same pinkish color as before.

"Does it hurt, Alanah?" I asked her quietly, kneeling to rest at eye level infront of her once more. Her eyes seemed to alight with fear for a moment before she shook her head to answer me, or to clear her thoughts one, and just closed her eyes again.

I watched as she stood up and grasped my forearm, her amber orbs piercing into mine and seeming to be on fire with pride. "I think I'll retire for the night, if that's alright? You can check on my wound again once I get up in the morning. Okay?" And she leaned up on her toes to place a soft kiss on my cheek, and I felt them linger there for a moment, as if she forgot we had an audience. I felt my own cheeks turn a slight pinkish color as I watched her start to walk away, towards my room.

"Shit!" I hissed, looking over at her as I saw her start to stagger. _Don't tell me the lass is a lightweight.. _I thought, but then as I watched her a bit more I saw her expression. She was confused, her eyes dialated and unfocused. She had just been coherent and full of energy. Full of pride. This was different. She wasn't drunk; she was going to faint! I took off in a jog across the small threshold, coming to stand just at her left side. I reached for her but, as I did, she started to fall over; no doubt tripping over her own feet.

I lunged for her, my arms sliding around her waist as I caught her just before she hit the floor. I turned her over in my arms gently, being careful of her wounded neck as I tilted her neck up, staring down at her closed eyes. The expression completely gone from her face. "Lass, wake up." I told her, shaking her slightly. She must have fainted. I gave her another shake; no response. Her eyes weren't even moving behind her eyelids. That's when I started to worry. There should've been movement, only the dead or ill don't have movement behind their eyes. This was bad. Very bad.

I hooked my arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground, standing with a bit of effort. She was lighter than I thought she would be, that was for sure. She was a tall woman; bound to weigh a bit. But she was lighter than a feather in my arms. I felt her cheek rest against my chest, somehow believing that even in her fainted state she had curled against me, and turned to look at Delvin. "Ol' man, I need you in here for a minute.. " I told him seriously, making my way towards my bedroom, my voice cracking with worry.

I set her down gently on my bed, making sure not to hurt her or put her in any uncomfortable positions, going to the wash basin to get the cold water from it to dab on her forehead. I gingerly dabbed it at her forehead, but there was no change, not even a shimmer behind her eyelids. I cringed as the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand on end, my intuition was telling me this wasn't good. Not at all. And my worry wasn't making me think rationally.

Delvin walked into the room then and looked from me to her, I was leaning over her, dabbing a soaked rag on her forehead. She was on fire. But she seemed so peaceful and if I hadn't known better, I'd be sure she was just sleeping. Just taking a small rest after a long days work. But the absence of movement was making my worry grow by the minute.

"What's goin' on?" He asked, moving to stand at my side. He leaned over to gaze down at her, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Is the gal alright?" And his old, grey eyes moved up to rest on mine. I shook my head. I didn't know how to answer him. I didn't know what was going on.

"I don't know, " I whispered, turning my attention back to her. I could hear her breathing, calmly. In and out. Slowly.

"Let me get a look at her.. " He told me, worry spreading up his brow and I got up to move out of his way. He was more fit to examine her than anyone else in the ratway. He wouldn't be rude enough to violate her while she was asleep, and also knew more than any of us about sickness. He used to do a lot of mercenary work in his youth.

His fingers pressed to the spot just below her jaw, and I saw his eyes get a bit focused. "Her heart rate's stable.. if I didn't know better, I'd be sure she was sleeping. Though she does seem to be a little warm," He placed the back of his hand against her forehead and then each cheek in turn. "But there's no signs of her dreaming." He whispered, more to himself than to me, I took it. He leaned over so his ear was next to her lips, which were slightly parted and listened to her breathing.

"Even, labored breaths.. " He rubbed his forehead as he leaned back up, looking from me to her. Slowly he moved and undid the fastenings of her armor, slipping it off her head and laying it on the floor by the bed. I didn't feel the need to cover her up, because something told me he had to examine her and that if I fought; I'd have to leave the room. I wasn't going to risk that happening.

He slid down the corners of the shirt that was under her armor, just enough to expose the tops of her shoulders and her neck. He gently started to prod at her shoulders, then collarbone and finally her neck. Before he gently turned her on her side. He made a motion for me to come closer, so I did. Regretful that he was the one touching her skin, but biting my lip to keep from slipping up.

"Hold her here so I can look at her neck.. " He instructed me, and I did as I was told, holding her hair out of the way as well as he peered down at the wound. I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat as I stared at the wound track. It was turning purple. Which only meant one thing. I didn't need to hear the words. I knew what was wrong. But he said them anyway; "Poison.." I cursed loudly under my breath before we gently eased her back into a laying position.

"Is it deadly, do you think?" I asked desperately, hoping that he was going to say no. But my gut feeling told me that wasn't the case. I bit my lip as I watched him nod his head before his shoulders shrugged and I bit harder into my lip. I saw red flash infront of my eyes and turned on my heel to storm out of the room. This 'Vilkas' character was going to pay dearly for hurting my little minx. If I had to beat him to a bloody pulp myself!

* * *

Vilkas paced quickly back and forth in the small room he shared with his brother, Farkas. His brow was furrowed, deep concentration written across his face. His hand moved to rest on his chin, rubbing at the slight beard he had; a grunt escaping his lips. He couldn't remember if he'd cut the elf or not. If he had, wouldn't her Guild come for him? And if he hadn't, surely he would go after her. She'd emberassed him and the Companions by pinning him to the wall and taking the contents he was supposed to guard with his life.

She'd spared his life, but was he to spare hers? Or was he to avenge his wounded honor? He grunted once more, his brows deepening in their frown. He shook his head, he had no choice but to defend their honor. It wasn't just his. Even if he did think the little minx was a trip if there ever was one. She didn't kill a single person. Only a skeever in the sewers. And she probably wouldn't have killed it, if she could help it, either. He snickered to himself. Why did he care anyway?

He heard a cringe as the door was opened to his room, stopping mid-step to look over at the door. Half expecting the elf to walk into his room and taunt him. But it was only Farkas. They both stood there looking at eachother for a moment before Vilkas grunted and looked back at the floor; going back to his pacing routine. He couldn't remember! If he had cut her, then everything would be brought to her Guilds attention. Surely they wouldn't want her to die.

And surely, he didn't give a rats ass. Right? _Wrong.. _a voice in the back of his head told him. He scowled harder at the floor, and if looks could kill; the floor would have burst into flames. "Vilkas.. ?" Farkas asked, moving slowly towards his brother. He reached out a hand, resting it on his brothers shoulders. Vilkas jumped about three feet in the air, cursing loudly in the process and glaring at his brother. "What?" The anger slowly faded as he saw Farkas's stern expression.

While Vilkas was a big man, muscular and healthy; Farkas was at least a good shoulder taller and another few inches wider. But despite Farkas's size and obviously overwhelming presence, underneath he was just a caring person. Constantly worrying himself with the affairs of others. Concerned for their safety, wellbeing and even feelings. He seemed to be older than Vilkas, but he was far younger. Just the strenuously caring nature had taken its toll on him in the past few years. Since their leader had started doubting things.

"You going to tell me what's wrong?" Farkas asked gruffly, dropping his hand from Vilkas's shoulder. He could tell something was bothering Vilkas, and he wanted Vilkas to spill. But wasn't sure if he would or not. Vilkas seemed to be thinking it over, should he tell Farkas or not? Would it be that big a deal? At least Farkas knew about the Goldenglow Estate job and how it went wrong. He scowled a bit more and heaved a heavy sigh, defeat making his shoulders slump over.

"That elf I told everyone about? The one that pinned me to the wall with just arrows? Well.. I can't remember if I cut her with my blade or not. And it was poisoned. If it had been.. it would've taken it until just recently to kick in. And it wouldn't be deadly. I barely nicked her if I nicked her at all. I just can't remember!" Vilkas grunted, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt sick to his stomach. He hated to worry over things. He overthought them when he chose to think at all.

"I thought you didn't like that elf to begin with? So what does it matter?" Farkas asked, not seeming to put the pieces together. Seeing the danger it would cause them if her precious Guild knew about the things they did. The dealings they made. "Brother.. " Vilkas began, trying to find the patience somewhere inside him to not scream at him. "If the poison is in her system and her Guild comes after us for an antidote.. we'll have to tell them." He told him, trying to seem serious and patient.

Farkas's face started to pale as it registered in his mind what Vilkas was talking about. Vilkas suddenly was hit with guilt far greater than he'd felt in a long time. He felt a bit better after sharing his worries, but knew that now Farkas would lose more sleep. Eat less. Be more occupied with this than he had been. Because he will always be worrying over if their secret would be out or not. He sighed and placed his hand on Farkas's shoulder. Farkas looked over at him, worry appearent on his face.

"If she has been poisoned.. her Guild will be here in a few days time. If it has kicked in, they'll no doubt be travelling right now to get here and get an antidote. And we don't have one to give them. This is bad. Very bad. We must tell Kodlak." Vilkas nodded his head, he knew that Farkas was right. They had to tell Kodlak so he wasn't caught by surprise when they showed up. If they even did. "You're right. We should go tell him." Vilkas turned towards the door and made his way towards Kodlaks room.

He knocked twice, then walked in. His usual entrance, despite the fact he was told not to just barge in. Kodlak was sitting at the table in the corner, writing in his journal he was always seeming to write in. The journal that they kept logs of their dealings with _them_ in. Vilkas felt the lump rise in his throat. _They_'d be beyond furious when they found out. _What have I done_? He thought, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. Kodlak rose to his feet and grabbed one of Vilkas's arms at the same moment Farkas grabbed the other.

They eased him into a seat, waving a book in his face, trying to get him to breathe. He gasped for air, trying to fight the wave of nasea and faintness from himself. Slowly, his senses returned to normal; bother Farkas and Kodlak looking at him with concerned and confused expressions. Farkas's face was getting paler by the minute. He was registering the same things that Vilkas was. Only slower.

"I did something terrible, Kodlak.. " Vilkas began, his hands trembling from the faint feeling he still had. "I might have cut that elf, just enough to make her ill. Not enough to kill her. It would've taken til now for it to kick in. She'd be in a deep slumber. The Guild she belongs to.. they'll surely come after an antidote if she has been nicked at all." He told Kodlak, and bless him; Kodlak didn't even bat an eyelash as he spoke. He just sat there, thinking it through.

"I don't even know if I did nick her. I just don't want it to be a surprise if someone from her Guild shows up here and demands an antidote. One we don't have. And if.. if.. _they_," he spat the word. "End up finding out and come after us because _their _secret will be out. We'd have to tell her Guild." Vilkas told him in a rush, trying to fight the wave of faintness once more. Kodlak nodded his head, reaching up to rub at his bearded chin once more.

"This is true.. " He began, thinking over things. "But, if you have not nicked her; we need not worry, correct? And if you have.. I guess it's a good thing we kept our informant with _them_ over the centuries. Otherwise, this would be very bad for that little elf." A twinkle entered his eyes as he spoke of the elf and Vilkas felt the confusion on his face. Was that admiration he saw? He felt another jab to his pride and turned his head to the side to avoid Kodlak seeing so.

Kodlak raised his brows, confused, at the way Vilkas was asking before it dawned on him; the elf had emberassed him. Badly. Kodlak suddenly chuckled and both Vilkas and Farkas nearly jumped out of their skins. Not at all expecting that reaction. This only made his chuckle get louder, echoing off the walls. Fearful the others might hear and come in, Vilkas put up his hand to stop the chuckling and scowled at Kodlak. "This is not funny.. " He told Kodlak, respecting him but being serious.

"It isn't the events that amuse me, Vilkas.. " Kodlak told him, that same twinkle in his eye as he looked at Vilkas. Vilkas scowled a bit more, even more confused by the expression as he was before. "It's the fact that this girl, this small elven woman.. not only bested you, but may very well be battling for her life and end up winning. Because we will have to help her. And by helping her, we'll be bringing danger and wealth to her Guild. She'd be succeeding in her mission without even knowing she was doing so. Do you see now why I am chuckling?"

Vilkas shook his head, he still didn't quite get it. Her mission was to take those documents, nothing more. As far as he knew. She had been completely honest with him, he'd had a blade to her neck for oblivions sake. Kodlak merely chuckled once more, shaking his head. "Her.. Guild, as you call them; they send their members out on jobs to earn wealth for them. To feed them. To keep things running. That was why we were sent to guard those contents. If she has indeed been poisoned, she'd be unknowingly gaining a very wealthy ally."

Kodlak spoke slowly, and it was Vilkas's turn to be surprised at just how lucky the minx was. He shook his head, fighting a slight smile that decided to show itself on its own. He had to admit it to himself and them; she was either very lucky or very intuitive. "So she unknowingly may have gained her Guild the one thing it needs the most.. wealth." He shook his head, speaking just above a whisper. He felt a slight wave of jealousy but bit it back quickly.

Kodlak tapped his chin softly as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes still sparkling with that same emotion that Vilkas couldn't quite place. When he spoke, affection was clear in his voice. "I have to give it to her, though.. to be standing there with you on the other end of a weapon and still keep her cool long enough to taunt you; she's a gutsy one. Lots of spirit. A girl like that would definitely add to our ranks. Perhaps this could benefit us after all.. " He trailed off, getting lost in his thoughts.

Vilkas snorted audibly, his expression disbelieving. "You'd want a small little minx such as her as part of our ranks? The others would never accept her. And she's so small! What could she give us that we don't already have?" He looked at Kodlak as he spoke, stubbornly refusing the idea of the elf bringing anything to the table other than annoyance and a constant reminder of what she told him.

"Oh, but she's already gave us something.. " Kodlak told Vilkas, using that same wise tone he always used when one of them didn't quite see the silver lining of a thunder cloud. Vilkas's brows furrowed once more and he looked over at Farkas who seemed to not get it either. Kodlak chuckled at them once more, shaking his head. He stood and moved over to the strongbox he kept locked tight and took something out. Vilkas couldn't quite make out what it was.

He walked over and sat back in his seat, his fist balled around whatever he had just taken out of the strongbox. He moved over to hold the fist out to Vilkas, and Vilkas raised his open palm up; still confused but curious at the same time. Kodlak dropped the small thing in his hand and when he removed his fist, Vilkas's eyes opened slightly wider and he shook his head. He refused to believe it.

Sitting in his open palm was a snowflake; colder than icecicles. Even in the heat of summer. It hadn't melted. It was a sign, everytime it became this cold and appeared back near Kodlak. He looked up at Kodlak, to be sure he wasn't seeing things. He bit his lip, feeling his heart skip a beat and start to hammer against his ribcage. _They _knew about it.

"What's.. this mean.. ?" Vilkas asked, turning his attention away from the septum-sized snowflake. He knew he must have seemed stupid at that moment, but his brain just wasn't registering what this meant. This snowflake.

"It means that not only do _they _know, but there's not an issue with it. Yet. It showed up the night of your mission, and I knew something was off about it. Since _they_ were the ones to give us the job to begin with. But it seems even I didn't know what would become of it. But _they_ did." Kodlak told them, a sad smile on his face. But at the same time, his eyes still had that twinkle. He shook his head.

"This elf girl, this girl you described to me as being very young.. she must be somehow connected to _them_ and not know it. She holds some kind of importance. You will go to _them_ if need be, introduce those that need be. Get what needs to be gotten, then we'll talk to her once she's awake. " He told Vilkas, and Vilkas knew then that she was poisoned. He'd poisoned her. Without meaning to. He hadn't meant to knick her, but she was small and more fragile than he thought.

He sighed heavily and rose from his seat; this would be a long series of days.

* * *

Brynjolf emerged from the ratway, in the center of the graveyard and his nose wrinkled in disgust. His scowl was deeper than it had been in days. Mercer had said that if he wanted to chase after Ghosts, then he could do so on his own time. But none of the resources of the guild would go to helping him. He was on his own. In the end, everyone had disagreed with Mercer. All insisted to not do a single job until they had her back. But none of them could go against Mercer when he had Maven behind him.

He grumbled to himself, making his way towards to gates of Riften. How long had it been since he'd left Riften for any set period of time? He couldn't remember. He just knew it'd been a good while. At least a few years. He'd always been too busy to get the chance to leave, unless it was a necessity and he couldn't go without doing so. He'd never left for anything like this. For a prolonged period of time. He passed by a few guards on his way out, and saw the condescending looks. To betray Mercer over a girl.

He felt a smile tug at his lips, but she wasn't just a girl, was she? She was special to him for some reason. And the thought of losing her again.. he couldn't take it. He blinked to himself, confused. Again? He shook his head, whatever that was he was trying to think of; it just gave him a headache. And he didn't need anything to cloud his determination right now. He had to do this. Had to save her. Even if he couldn't before. He felt his eyes go wide. He'd done it again! Why did he know her? How?

He barely remembered anything from his childhood.. not until Mercer pulled him from that fire and showed him how to live. Showed Phiro and him how to live. Without Mercer, they'd have died. That much he was sure of. But what was there before that? What had THAT been, anyway? And why did he always try not to remember it.. it was too painful, he guessed. He slipped out of the main gates and made his way to the stables. Shadr was already waiting for him, saddling up his best horse; Anabell.

He smiled at his old friend in greeting as he neared. "Shadr, ol' friend. 'Tis good to know yer well. Is she ready?" He asked, patting the horses neck as he moved closed enough to her. She grunted and pressed her head into his shoulder; blowing hot air on his neck. He laughed slightly. Anabell, always reliable. "Aye, she's ready. Just be careful on'er. She ain't as young as she us'ta be." Shadr told him, rubbing the horses neck one last time.

"I'll take good of her, lad." Brynjolf told him as Shadr handed him the reigns. Brynjolf climbed up onto the saddle and adjusted it so it was nice and tight, slipping his bag over his head and storing it in the saddle bag. He'd need to be at full attention. This was going to be a long ride, even with one of the fastest horses in Skyrim. Shadr nodded and turned to make his back into the stables. Brynjolf reached into his pocket and tossed a bag of coins at Shadr's back. Shadr stiffened as he heard them hit his back, before kneeling to pick them up.

"Thank you, Brynhjolf!" He yelled to him as Brynjolf took off to ride in the direction of Whiterun. It was a good days journey if he didn't stop at all to rest. If he did stop at the bare minimum, he'd be there by noon the next day. He could handle that. Surely the lass could hold on that long? Or at least, maybe he could. If he didn't get to her in time.. he didn't know what he'd do with himself.

He scowled and gently spurred Anabell with the heels of his boots, he had no time to spare. He'd stop at the bare minimum, but if he could help it; that would be shorter than it should be too.

Sometime between riding and trying to stay awake, Brynjolf managed to make it to a small town just outside of White Run. Even though it had been nearly sixteen hours and he couldn't ride anymore. His eyes were heavier than they had been in months, and he felt famished. If he didn't eat soon, his stomach would drive him crazy before he had the chance to. He dismounted at the outskirts of the town and looked around for an inn. To his right was a small camp of Kahjiit's.

One of them called out to him, offering him something to eat for ten coins. He shrugged and made his way over, tying Anabell to the fencepost in the process. He moved to sit where the Kahjiit told him to and reached into his pocket for the coin. He held it out to the Kahjiit in exchange for a bowl of some steaming stew. Just the smell drove his senses wild; Gods it smelled delicious!

"This is beef stew, traveler.. it should fill you right up." The female told him, holding a spoon out to him. He gratefully took it and took a huge bite of the steaming stew. The warmth seeped into his bones and filled his stomach a slight bit, making the painful hunger subside. He spooned another bit into his mouth and chewed on it. The female watched him quietly, laughing to herself at his behavior.

"I take it you haven't eaten in a while?" She ventured, offering an opening for conversation. But not pressuring him into telling her anything. The Kahjiit weren't anywhere near as bad as they were made out to be. He knew that. He smiled warmly at her and swallowed the bite of food, nodding his head slowly.

"Aye, lass. I haven't in nearly a full day. Been trying to reach Whiterun before I had to stop. But I couldn't do it." He told her, spooning another bit into his mouth and chewing on it. She nodded her head thoughtfully and reached into a sack at her side, taking out a half loaf of bread. She tore off half of it and offered it to him. He gratefully took it and dipped it into the stew, before biting off the morsel's covered bits. He groaned. They sure could cook.

"That's free, traveler. You need it just as much as any of us do." She told him, gesturing to her companions. He glanced around at them one at a time, met by curious and friendly gazes. One of them was obviously older, judging by the age in his eyes. But the other couldn't have been more than a boy. No older than Alanah. His heart squeezed at the memory of her laughing at a job well done just the night before.

He looked down at his stew and slowly ate it. Deliberately. The female saw his expression and her own softened; he'd guessed she knew what he was thinking. And would bet that the young male was her cub. "I take it you've got an important reason to be traveling without eating..I'm sorry, I did not catch yer name." She told him, her accent coming out slightly. She watched him curiously as he ate, but didn't press him to speak.

"My name is Brynjolf, lass." He told her, looking back at her with a slight smile. "And aye, I do have a good reason. As good as any, if I do venture to say so m'self." She smiled softly back and nodded her head. She only said two words, but she was dead on. "A lady." She told him, laughing softly. She sifted through her pack once more and held out to him a small trinket.

He took it in his free hand, now that he had finished his half loaf of bread and turned it over in his hand. "It's beautiful.. " He whispered, looking at the intricate designs on it. The small shape of a half moon, with a snowflake shaped sapphire sitting between it's sharp tips. Held sternly in place. Swirling up the sides of the half moon were slivers of white gold, creating intricate designs and swirls. They seemed to come together towards the snowflake-sapphire and wrap around it to hold it in place. Almost protecting it. It was magnificent. He held it back out to her and she took it in her paw, smiling once more. A far off look coming into her eyes. The older male got up and went to do something in his tent but the younger one stayed; gazing curious at Brynjolf.

"This was given to me by my mate before we left our home land.. He was ill, you see, and said this would keep us safe." She looked over to the younger male, confirming Brynjolf's earlier assessment. "He did not survive the journey into Skyrim.. but I would like to think that this keeps us safe. Take it with you, will you?" She asked, suddenly holding it back out to him. "We have each other, and from the looks of you.. you have this woman whom needs you to be safe. Am I right? Please, take it." Her eyes were earnest and he had to take it, for fear he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't.

"It's not that she's all I have, lass.. " He told her. "It's that between my brother and myself, we're all she's got.. and right now, he's not there and I can't be there. I have to do what I can to save'er." He didn't know why the woman was being so kind, but he guessed it was because she understood the feelings he felt right now. His heart squeezed with the familiar ache he felt when he thought of her. "I'm all she has.. " He whispered, staring into the fire.

The female smiled a sad smile, nodding her head. The younger male moved over to lay his head on her lap and she starting stroking his fur with her paw quietly. "You may rest here traveler, if you need to. There's a spare bedroll. No sense in you wasting septims on that inn up the road. It's not worth what you'd pay. Not to mention, the bedroll is free and you'd be free to leave come morning when you're ready." She leaned back against the tree behind her and her eyes started to drift closed.

He was willing to bet she slept that way a lot, her hand on her cubs head and the other hovering near her dagger. Constantly ready to protect that which mattered most to her. The way he felt about Alanah. Even if he wasn't ready to tell her that. Even if she wasn't poisoned. He'd guess that many people had attacked this female and her cub for the simple fact they were Kahjiit. He glanced towards the free bedroll and quietly moved it over by the fire, climbing into it.

The last thing he saw before he fell to sleep, with a full stomach and clutching the small pendant was the sight of the female's eyes opening and a soft smile spreading up her features as she saw him getting comfortable. She didn't look tired, and he guessed she'd stay awake as long as she could to watch over their campsite and keep them safe. He didn't know why, but that comforted him and he fell right to sleep.

When he woke in the morning, the female was curled up in a bedroll below the tree and the younger male was sitting over on a stump not too far from them. Watching the forest carefully and occasionally glancing over at his mother. The older male was still in his tent, he gathered. He sat up slowly and the sound of the bedroll moving caught the cubs attention. His sharp eyes fell on Brynjolf and then softened, as he motioned for Brynjolf to come to where he was.

Brynjolf made his way over quietly, pulling on his boots as he did so. The cub pointed silently to the distance where they could see the top of a tower. "That.. " The cub began in a quiet voice, "is the city you spoke of lastnight, no? If you take that trail you see between the two mountains, you'll get there in nearly an hours time. It's a bit dangerous, lots of wolves, but I think you can handle it." He told Brynjolf quietly, pointing at a narrow and winding path between the mountains. He nodded, looking at the steep platue's on either side of the path.

"I thank you for telling me that, lad. And you're right, I can handle it. If it'll cut off some riding time, and make up for the time I spent sleepin' then I'll gladly take it." He then glanced over at the sleeping female and reached into his sack, he took out a small bag of coins. No more than thirty or so, then handed it to the boy. "Give this to yer mom once I'm out of eyesight. Okay, lad?" The cub nodded his head and took the coins, a grateful smile on his lips.

Brynjolf mounted the horse, slipping the necklace that the female had given him over his head and gently nudged Anabell's sides. She took off in a slight sprint towards the city of Whiterun.

It didn't take long to reach the city, because even though he'd been warned there were wolves; he didn't run into any. Though, admittingly, he found that to be a relief. He didn't want to waste any more time than was necessary. Because if he was being honest, he didn't want to waste any time when she was suffering (or so he thought) from the poison induced slumber. Hell, he didn't even know what it would do to her. Or what toll it would take on her. He had no idea what it even was.

That was why he'd risked losing sleep and food, because getting there was his first priority. Nothing else mattered. He had to find this Vilkas fellow and find out what it was that was on his sword, and demand that he give him the antidote. At whatever cost. He knew he had the coin, but did he have the resolve to be patient and not kill him on sight? He wasn't sure yet.

* * *

He walked straight through the main gates to Whiterun and ran smack into someone, who seemed to be leaving the city. He grunted, both of them being knocked to the ground from the force of their chests hitting. He looked up confused at the fellow he bumped into; it was an older man. His hair was white, pushed back over his forehead to hang loosely and disarrayed at his shoulders. The man's beard was longer, to the tops of his collarbone and it was just as lacking in color as the rest of his hair. His eyes were somewhat cold and wise.

He seemed to be looking past Brynjolf, towards something Brynjolf guessed to be in the distance behind him. Brynjolf stood up and brushed himself off before extending a hand to the older gentleman. The gentleman took his hand and Brynjolf gave a tug on it lightly, pulling him to his feet and placing a hand on the man's shoulder to steady him. "Thanks, " The man grunted, brushing his own armor off. He scowled slightly, noticing a tear in the side of his armor.

"I'm terribly sorry about th-" Brynjolf tried to say, but was silenced when the man held up a hand to shush him. "It's nothin' to worry about. I wasn't watching where I was going. I should'a been." The man told him, flashing him a kind smile. Brynjolf found himself smiling back. "Where are you headed, traveler?" The man asked, and Brynjolf told him about his search for Vilkas and the 'Companions'. The old man's eyes lit up with knowing and he nodded his head. He pointed him in the direction of the square.

"I'll take you there myself, it's my home afterall." The man told Brynjolf and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Surely such a nice man wouldn't approve of a young woman dying? Surely to the Gods, no.


	6. Vilkas

_A/N: _This chapter has been bugging me for AGES-I didn't know if I wanted it to be a battle already of sorts, or if I just wanted to get the basic formalities out of the way and head on with the story itself.. in the end, it came out short. /: A mesely 2k words. Give or take a hundred. Next chapter; I'm going to try to make up for lack of wording.

_Read, Review, Favorite, Subscribe~_

__-Oph c:

* * *

My tired, hardened with age eyes gazed around the small, cramped room we were all seated in. I couldn't fight the tightness in my chest, the tension in the room was too thick for an old man of my health to endure. I cleared my throat and all eyes fell on me, all mindless banter ceasing as their gazes moved my way. I shifted slightly in my seat, making sure I kept an air of calm for my comrades and my newest aquaintance. I knew exactly what all of this meant. It meant the girl had been poisoned, and by one of my members hand. It meant that we had to reveal everything. The secret contact. The importance of the snowflake, which I grasped onto in my pocket. I knew they sanctioned this happening, even encouraged it, but I couldn't help the unease I felt. Surely they wouldn't just let us out their existance like that? Not without proper reprocaution?

There were only three things in this life that I feared more than anything else. Where my soul would go to rest once I died, what would happen if someone had slipped up and let the secret be known about them and what would happen to my family after I was gone. I was a simple man, with very simple tastes. Simple rules. Simple requests. But now a handful of those had been broken by the one person I would've chosen to lead in my stead at the event of my death. My eyes fell on him as I watched the sweat pour from his brow, he was fidgetting nervously in his seat. His eyes, hidden behind dark and chin length bangs, scanning swiftly around the room. He looked like a cornered, wounded animal. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and make it for the escape. But there was also guilt. He did have a thing for the little minx he poisoned. And the sooner he admitted it, the sooner we could all rest easy. It would certainly make my job easier.

I sighed to myself, drawing away from my thoughts with a slight shake of the head. I reached up to gentle brush my own hair out of my face, dragging my hand down the length of it to smooth out my features. What sense was there in sitting here dreading over things out of my control? Very little, if any, that's for sure. I glanced down at my hand, resting on the oak tabletop, and drug my fingernail accross it's surface. I noticed the way the wood caved under the pressure of my nail and was reminded of how we would be should they figure out they were outted. I closed my eyes to take one last, long, soothing deep breath in before I opened my mouth to speak to them all. All of their eyes were on mine. Waiting for orders. Waiting to take the next move. Ready to jump if I only said the words. And as their eyes lit up with understanding, I knew this wouldn't go over well with some of them. But it had to be done.

* * *

I paced back and forth in the dimly lit corridor where Kodlak had lead me, both hands clasped behind my back. My head tilted downwards in concentration. I had butterflies in my stomach, would it be this simple? Would I just walk in and be given the antidote to save her? I think not. Something in my gut was telling me this was not going to be good, especially since he was going to fetch the rest of his 'coven' to go over the plans for the next few days. Something wasn't right with all of this, with him and the rest of them. The way they were all so paranoid and cautious, yet arrogant and conceited. They surely didn't like that my little minx had bested one of their best hunters, did they? And if he had a woman, surely she would be furious enough to plot an evil revenge? Like switching the antidote vial with another vial of poison, potent enough to kill my minx where she lay? I shook my head again, my blood starting to boil at the thought.

I felt the sweat run down my temple, and land on my cheek bone, irritating my skin more than slightly. I reached up to brush the hair back from my face and wipe off my forehead. I heard the door knob turn and froze in my pacing. In walked Kodlak, followed by around ten people. Varying in age, sex and race. I chewed the inside of my cheek, my instincts on overdrive as they came closer. I didn't know how to take this, but I sat down as they did at the large oak table in the center of the room. I didn't know which one of them was VIlkas, but as I scanned them all and their statures, I had a pretty good idea who he was. The one directly accross from me. About a hands length away. Nervous, fidgetting, staring down at the table before looking guiltily all around the room at myself and his companions.

I turned my attention to an old woman in the corner and her eyes lit up with a soft smile, I felt myself wanting to return it, but I knew I couldn't. I felt sick to my stomach and it would end up only coming out in a grimace. She moved to a pitcher and poured some liquid in a cup, setting it infront of me. I lifted it to my nose and took a whiff, water. I tilted it up and pressed it to my lips, sighing gratefully when the cool liquid slid down the back of my throat; sating a thirst I hadn't known I had. I noticed a younger woman, maybe ten seasons older than my minx, staring at me intently. She had bright red hair, dark and foreboading eyes and a handprint painted on her face. I guessed that was her signature. She would be the one I would guess had her eye on this Vilkas. And that my coming here might endanger her.

Kodlak looked at me and nodded his head, giving me the okay to speak if I chose to. But I did not. I couldn't think of the words to say, or the ways to explain to them how I felt in all of this. How much she had helped me and my guild, and not to mention this odd and unexplainable desire I had to protect her and be a part of her life. The feeling that I had failed her somehow becuase I knew the Golden Glow Estate job wasn't right for her. Not a little thing like her. She pulled it off without trouble, of course. But what was to say the next time I wouldn't be here to come and find an antidote to save her life? What if someone simply wrote it off as her being sick and she withered away in her sleep the way she might if I didn't hurry?

I felt my throat tighten as the different thoughts ran through my mind, making my head spin from lack of breathing. How could I breathe at a time like this? I failed her and here I was, too coward to speak up and save her. Say what I needed. Say exactly what would sve her life and restore my sanity before I lost all comprehension I had? I was in a fickle. A very bad fickle and nothing I could do or say would prepare me for what was to come. The gut feeling I had only made things worse. I had no idea where this would all lead. And I was terrified that in some way, the sleeping girl back in Riften was barely getting started on her battle for her life. And that I would play a huge role. And maybe even this Vilkas character would.

And then his eyes snapped up and met mine. I stared back into his eyes and felt for the first time, a bit of a pity for him. He looked so troubled, young, innocent sitting there that I felt pity for him. For more than a moment we sat there staring at eachother. Then his eyes went hard and he stared me down, something registering in his eyes that wasn't there before. I almost looked away, but the thought of that girl in Riften kept my face turned straight towards his and my eyes evenly as hard. I bit into my bottom lip as I watched him, my hand balling into a fist at my side and releasing it only to do so again. My shoulders were tensing up, my foot was tapping impatiently on the floor. I was itching to wring his neck. This was his fault after all.

If he hadn't chosen to lace his dagger with that poison, as I guessed it, then I would not have had to leave her side to come here and try to find the antidote. I wouldn't have had to go to all this trouble just to stare into his face. Just to see the lack of genuine regret in his eyes. But I knew it was not entirely his fault. I should have never allowed her to go and do the job in the first place, not with the way I was feeling in my gut. I was just as much at fault in this as he was. And that was the real reason I Felt so terrible and felt so insignificant as I sat here.

All these people moved in such an odd way, I had to think on it quite a bit to put my finger on the oddness of it all. They moved as if they were all marionettes and connected by strings. That once one moved, so did the other. It was a protective kind of movement cycle. They defended each other to their last breath, I'd bet. And their odd movements were a result of complete and utter familiarity and loyalty. They would not turn their backs on one another. This would be as difficult as I thought if this went south and I tried to kill the bloody bloat.

My eyes landed once more on the older male figure I saw staring at his followers protectively and lovingly. I felt a tad bit empathatic for him at this one moment, because I knew that if it had been my guild this was brought to; I'd have been in the same situation that he was now in. And I would not have been able to be as composed. I would have lost my cool the moment I ran into the man who had been hunting me. But then, maybe that was why they had done so well as of yet and we had not. They were calm and collected and thought things through. They weren't rash as we would have been.

I turned back to gaze at the man; Kodlak, I think was his name, just in time before he cleared his throat to speak. Sometimes in his tone told me he meant no-nonsense. Not from me and certainly not from the rest of his pack. I saw the square set of his jaw as he began to speak, and noticed the air of authority he took on as he spoke to the rest of us. It was like meeting a completely different person. And for the first time since I met him in the gate; I was afraid of him.

"This man has come to us today to find a cure to save a member of his pack.. " He began, and the awed silence was enough to make my skin crawl. Everyone's eyes fell on the Vilkas fellow and again I felt pity for him. He seemed to cringe in his seet, lowering to almost the level of the table. "The poison that was used belong to _them_, and so this isn't likely to be a good time for any of us. Vilkas, since you were the one to poison the girl.. you will be the one to go with him to get the antidote. No one else is going to follow. Or go. This is your mess to clean."

And just like that, the conversation was over. He began to make a map for us to use to get to wherever this '_they_' was, and then they sent us on our way. Not a one followed. And at first, as the carriage was bumping along on the road; I loathed the man across from me who had caused so much pain to Alanah. But deep down inside, there was a part of me that respected him. Even the tiniest bit. Because, though he was still on edge; he did not run. And there he sat, across from me, willing to find the antidote.


	7. Getting There

_A/N: _Now, for this chapter, I'd like to try to go over a few things before I get started; this is the only warning for my story that I will give before I go on and do some smut. =P

There may be non-con, blood play, knife play, gore, violence, descriptive sexual encounters between the same sex and opposite sex. There is no GUARANTEE-only because I don't know for sure how I want to go about it happening. .o; But I am almost positive that in this chapter, or the next, there will be some kinky sex between the same sex or opposite sex. And I do know for sure it will be angry and Non-Con.

_**READ AT YOUR OWN RISK~ (:**_

* * *

Brynjolf tilted his head as the heard the wagon bumping along the tundra, exiting the city of white run. He could see, through a small opening at the base of the wagon that they were still fairly close to the small city. He briefly ran over the past few days events in his head, as his hand reached up to rub along the length of the necklace he was holding on to. If there was ever a time he was grateful for something, it was now. He felt as if this necklace had indeed brought him luck so far. And he didn't want to let that go.

The tension in the wagon, however, was something that not even the best luck in all of Cyrodiil could cure. It was so thick you could slice through it like a roasted boar in the dead of winter. Bones and all. He saw that Vilkas was just as uneasy as he was, fidgeting with his hands that were folded formally in his lap. A practiced thing, no doubt, to control his anger or something along those lines.

Brynjolf wanted to start a conversation, but he wasn't sure how to. He didn't want to anger the male, so he didn't want to mention the Goldenglow Estate job; which was really their only common event as of yet. But he couldn't really think of anything else that was relevant to their situation. Sighing, he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. Willing the headache he was getting to go away.

"I have some tea for that… "He heard the male say, and as he looked up, Vilkas was offering him a wineskin made from animal hide. He stared at the thing for a moment before nodding his head and reaching for it, half expecting him to take it away. But he did not.

As he lifted it to his lips and gingerly sipped at it, he sighed. It was the tea that nice woman had made, he could taste the honey dripping from the liquid. As he lowered it, he noticed his headache was already leaving. Leaving with a feeling of calm and reassurance. "Thank you, " Was all Brynjolf could think to say as he gave the wineskin back.

"I don't mind sharing.. It's going to be a long journey from this middle region to the far left regions of Skyrim.. Not to mention crossing the boarders, and securing a boat before we even get to their land. That's the easy part. Now, navigating through the land to the secret entrance? That's something else entirely." Vilkas rambled on and on about the dangers on the island.

Talking about lions, tigers, bears and even some sort of bird that prayed on the mer's populace. A creature that stood as tall as a man but was as wide as a bear; who's beak was razor sharp, adorned with teeth that were the size of a mer's fist. Just a single tooth! The mere thought was giving him the willies. And he didn't like to think of things that could gobble him up as if he was a midnight snack.

"Who are these people anyway, that you speak of..? I have never heard of such a place. And Kodlak said this morning that they send snowflakes, which never melt, to signal their sanction of something?" Leaning closer, he was whispering by the time he was finished, and Vilkas was battling internally over whether to go ahead and tell him or let him see for himself.

He chose to go with telling him. Better be prepared than not. "They are the last remaining snow elves.. They live on an island not too far off the coast of northwestern Skryim. It's hidden by a plume of clouds, so you'll know that it's the right place. The island itself is about the size of Solitude. The banks are full of mudcrabs the size of wolves.. But as you get further inland, the trees block almost everything. Towering as high as the trees in Valenwood. "

"But the scariest things of all, " He told him in a low whisper, " Are the people there that they use as sort of.. Slaves. Not normal people, or mer. Like you nor I. It's the falmer; their fallen brethren. They are the last remaining Snow Elves in the entire globe. They are a dying, secret, organization. That use outsiders like my guild, to establish connections with the world." Brynjolfs eyes were wide.

He was speculating the very idea of there being such a place. Or such people. The Snow Elves were creatures of folk lore; no one had ever witnessed one in thousands upon thousands of years. Not since the first war where the dwarves sabotaged them and they in turn tried to hunt them to their deaths. It was all a tragic story; but from the sounds of it, some Snow Elves survived. Did this mean some of the Dwarves had as well?!

"I see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you that is where we are going. And you will see for yourself. You will end up owing them something in return for them giving you the antidote.. But they already favor, this.. Alanah, did you say was her name?" And the way he said her name, with slight affection, it made Brynjolfs blood boil. He didn't want this man to say her name. Not with that much care. He had no right. But he bit it back. Put it away for later.

"They will more than likely want you to become an ally of them, for them to call on in any sort of time of need. It's an established, well worth it, thing to do.. But they are brutal if you cross them or give out their secrets. They'd throw you, and everyone you ever loved, into a prison on their island and torture you in mental and physical ways you'd never imagine.. Before finally leaving you there to rot and die. To starve and eventually turn into a falmer like creature. Then they'd kill you off.."

Something in his tone made Brynjolf get the idea that he had witnessed this once before, that forlorn and lost in thought tone. The carriage bumped just then and for a few moments all was quiet. With Brynjolf taking the information in and with Vilkas staring into space. For once, both of their thoughts were on the same thing; Alanah. And if she was alright.. Neither of them knew of the things she was going through.

Of the mental things that were plaguing her mind. Making her think she wasn't sick somewhere at all. But was rather a thirteen season's old girl once more, living in an orphanage with a bunch of boys. The only girl. And their 'Master' as he made them refer to him as. Compared to their journey, hers was more torturous at this very moment.

* * *

_Snowflakes.. _I thought, reaching up to catch one of the beautiful specs in my palm. I looked down at it as it started to melt in my hand and felt a pang of jealousy. I wished I could just melt away with no thoughts of what would happen if I did. _You fade away, but your chill still remains.. _I thought, as I stared down at the drop of water the spec had become.

I felt a rush of wind blow my hair back and expose my cheeks to the harsh cold of the evening. I blew out my air in a rush, looking away from my palm reluctantly, to stare at the swirling specs. It reminded me of a tornado. It was so beautiful, yet so cold. Deadly. I stepped closer, only to feel someone tugging at my hand.

I tilted my head up, following the arm that held me in place to meet a set of curious and worried green eyes. I felt the confusion that must've been written on my face. He only smiled down at me and moved a strand of hair out of my face. I couldn't place what I had been about to do, I could only stare back into his eyes.

"It's kind of cold, Alanah.. Don't you think we should go inside and warm by the fire?" He asked me, stepping closer so that he could envelope me in his embrace. I found my arms slide up between our bodies and rest against his chest, letting his warmth envelop me. I found myself shaking my head, despite the undeniable cold I felt. Something inside of me was on fire, because he'd hugged me.

"It's much too beautiful to go inside, can't we stay out here a bit longer?" I tilted my head and looked up at him, pleading for him not to drag us inside. He was far bigger than me, and I knew he'd pull me inside if I got too cold, but I didn't want to go inside and miss this spectacular thing known as snow. For back home, before I was brought here, we'd never seen anything like it. It was.. Magical, almost.

"Don't they have snow where you're from?" He asked me, reaching up to cup my chin as he made me look further up at him. I merely shook my head, heat searing through my veins and making my cheeks turn red. Not from the cold, either. He chuckled and released my chin, much to my disappointment and turned to look over towards the swirls of specs.

I turned to watch it, too, mesmerized. He tightened his grip on me, and I shivered, just as the specs came flying into us and send my hair flying back behind us, creating whips against his arm and shoulder. I heard his sharp intake of breath and tilted my head to look up at him, the swirls still spiraling around us in such beautiful patterns. I could swear he was glowing.

But maybe it was just my imagination. I felt his hand move to my back, gripping the fabric of my cloak and pulling my body tighter against his; his body heat warming me to my core, despite the blistering cold against my face and legs. I closed my eyes and felt his shoulders move as he leaned closer to me, sighing happily as his forehead rested against mine.

He was so warm. So strong. There was so much of him, it was almost intimidating. But I knew he'd never do anything to hurt me. I opened my eyes to peer up at him curiously, but his were closed and his mouth was hanging slightly open. I could see his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his nose was turning red.

I stepped closer to him and his eyes opened to look down at me, slightly gazed over, as if he'd forgotten where we were. I felt my cheeks turn red as I looked back above his head at the beautiful swirls of snow. He was still watching me, when I smiled brightly as a few specks landed in his beautiful red locks of hair.

I looked down at him just as he leaned forward to wrap me tighter in his embrace, almost as if he were afraid I'd get too cold. I shifted, sliding my arms around his waist and pulling him closer to me; giving him my warmth to keep him warm. I didn't feel so cold. But he was shivering.

"We can go inside if you want to, Bryn.. " I whispered against his chest when one of his hands pushed my face into the crevice between his pecks to shield me from the blistering wind that tore through the square we were standing in. I bit softly into my lip to keep still, resisting the urge to look up once more at the swirls.

"N-no.. " He tried to sound strong, but I could hear his teeth chattering. He wasn't dressed to be out here. And neither was I. "I-I'm fine.. P-promise.. " He grunted, his entire body shaking with a shiver. I bit harder into my lip and drew back from him when the wind stopped.

"We should go in, it's not as drafty inside as it is out here.. Let's go." I grabbed his arm as I spoke, turning so I was at his side and leading him towards the door I'd come out of. He only struggled mildly at first, but eventually he came willingly with me inside.

I pushed the door open and waited for him to step inside before I closed it behind me, a rush of wind blowing at the last second and sending a huge wave of the beautiful snowflakes into the hallway we'd entered. I felt my lips pull up into another smile instantly. It was just so amazing.

I watched as he slid out of his light coat and hung it up, before he offered to help me out of mine. I shook my head and untied the sash that held it in place, letting it slide down to land in my right hand before I hung it up beside his coat. He was still shivering.

I grabbed his arm and led him into the main hall, moving to sit on one of the stone benches that one of the Priestesses had covered in furs and I started to rub my hands up and down along his arm; my attempt at warming him. His eyes never left my face.

"You're cold.." I told him, moving to rub up along his neck with my icy fingers. He didn't seem to mind. "I'm sorry.. That you had to come outside and get me. You really shouldn't have. You'll catch a cold in this condition." I scolded him, moving to check his forehead for heat.

He was on fire. But I wasn't sure if it was from his blushing cheeks or just a fever. I bit my lip once more as he hung his head and avoided my eyes. I was curious, but I did not want to push him. I would never push him to tell me anything he didn't offer up freely.

Of course I never did figure out which he was suffering from; the blush or the cold. I decided not to push the matter, and reached down to grab a spare fur off one of the nearby benches and draped it over his shoulders. I softly gave his arms another rub before sitting down beside him.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, and closed my eyes; visions of dancing in the snow tornados filling my head. Barefoot, wearing a white dress that my mother would have never let me wear; twirling in perfect harmony with the twirling flakes. Them sticking to my hair, my clothes, my skin. Making me twinkle in the moonlight.

"What are you thinking about, Alanah?" I heard him ask, barely above a whisper and right in my ear. My cheeks instantly heated up, my fantasy coming to a sudden halt at the sound of his voice. And instead of being gone completely, it was replaced by another one. Almost identical.

Only this one involved both of us. I shook my head softly to clear it, and cleared my throat before I spoke; "I was just thinking about the snowflakes and how beautiful they are.." I told him honestly, leaving out the part about dancing in them in next to nothing.

He chuckled softly in my ear, his voice gruff when he spoke, and laced with drowsiness. "They looked good.. Around you.. " Then I heard the familiar sound of his snoring and glanced up to find him leaning back, his head tilted back, fast asleep. His adams apple moving every time he snored.

I found myself giggling internally, before I heard the fire crackle and pop; turning my attention to the blazing flames. Watching them dance with the breeze that always seemed to go through the orphanage. The last thing I remember is wishing I was outside in the cold, watching the snow flakes.. Instead of watching the flames lick higher in the fireplace.

When I woke up, it was nearly impossible to see. There was smoke everywhere. All I could hear were the sounds of cracking wood and the distinct crackle a fire made as it consumed whatever was its dinner. I was on fire. I felt like I had been cooking in an oven.

He was nowhere to be found. No longer cushioning me from the stone bench, and I was completely alone. In the middle of a roaring fire that was only getting bigger by the minute. I stood straight up before I frantically looked around. I couldn't see him anywhere.

I heard something crack, and saw the doorway collapse in on itself. I was trapped. I was going to die here. I saw a window that was just big enough to climb out of, if I could get to it and pushed the bench over to the window seal. I managed to knock the glass out, cutting my hands in the process and push myself through the small opening.

The fire only got bigger as I tumbled into a heap onto the snow covered streets. I felt the flames lick at my feet, my legs and my hips. I opened my mouth to scream, but the fires drown it out. I curled up in a ball as the flames licked closer to me; before I felt suddenly cold. A blanket of snow had fallen off the top of the orphanage and was shielding me.

Soothing the burns. In moments; I was out like a light once more. Full of a sense of loneliness and readiness to die and underneath that.. This deep sense of being safe. For once in my life, I felt safe. The snow had saved my life, and forever I would be grateful to it. To the snow that never melted, even under the intense heat of the fire that was roaring out of the window and licking at my form. It kept me safe.

When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar setting. I could hear several loud voices talking somewhere above me, I could hear the sounds of rapids raging on the river in the distance. Hear the sounds of the trees, swaying in the cold wind that whipped around me. Hear the sounds of the wheels turning, going over the different textures of the tundra. I could even hear the horse grunting to pull the weight up the incline.

But I could not open my eyes to see where I was. To see where I was being taken. I only knew that I was paralyzed; whether in shock or as a result of the fire I did not yet know. I could feel things, as well. Things I'd never felt before. I could feel the things I heard. As vivid as if I were touching each and every one of them with my palms, fingertips or toes.

I could feel the wind rustling the tree leaves, swaying back and forth; giving my head a little spin. I could feel the rapids clashing together in absolute chaos; slamming against one another to get domination and spill over the waterfall. I could feel the sunlight dancing across my skin, warming my bones despite the chill the wind had left.

I could feel the ground squishing beneath the force of the wagon, and the occupants; leaving small indentions in the tundra's surface. I could even feel the horse's hot breath as if I were petting her muzzle. Hear her rapid heartbeat, the strain on her muscles. Feel the ache she felt while trying to pull us. But most of all; I could feel some sort of tingling sensation from my toes to my waist, which were coming from the hands resting upon my flesh.

My cheeks must have turned pink for I heard one of the males gasp. "She's alive! See? She moved, and she's blushing! I told you touching her bare skin was NOT a good idea!" He sounded younger, most likely closer to my age. I was only sixteen full cycles old. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he started to blush from my own. "Can you talk to us..?" I heard him whisper, and I felt hot breath against my ear.

I fought the urge to tremble, shiver and squirm all at once. The sensations my body was feeling was too great. If I made a move; I'd twitch to death. I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak. "I-" I tried, but all that came out was a raspy gurgle. I was thirsty. To the gods I was thirsty! I tried to lift my arm, to signal I needed water. But I could not move at all.

I felt the panic in my heart, but knew I was not showing it on the outside for their heartbeats never sped up. The boy was smart, though, and in moments I felt a wineskin press to my lips and I gratefully sipped at the cool, spring water. I drank until it was empty.

He chuckled softly and leaned down once more, tickling my skin with his breath; "Can you try that again, milady?" He asked me, and for some reason, I was blushing darker. His accent was thick, southern. He was not a native of Skyrim either. Much like myself. I idly wondered what race he was.

"I can talk.." I blurted, sounding a bit indifferent, even to my own ears. I heard his heart start to speed and tried once more to open my eyes; nothing but blackness. "Am I blind now..?" I asked him directly, turning to face his voice. I heard his heart skip a beat, then hammer against his ribs. It must have been painful.

"W-we don't know yet.. We think you're still in some sort of shock, and that once you're healed you'll regain functions of your body." He told me, honestly, I could hear how his heart was still pounding. He was either terrified of me, or I made him excited. I didn't know if I wanted to know which I was doing. But his body heat told me it was the latter.

"She needs to rest." I heard an older male grunt, his accent was slightly feline. I guessed he was kahjiit. And judging by the furry palms that accompanied his voice; I was right. I felt my lips tug up into a smile and turned to face his voice. "Why are you smiling bosmer?" He asked me, the 's' drawing out on the word. I shivered involuntarily.

"I was realizing how I knew you were a Kahjiit just by your voice. And that I was having a bit of trouble figuring out which race our young friend is." I told him honestly, losing my smile and immediately turning back to where his voice had been with an apologetic look. I heard his heart slow down a little, the heat receding and leaving me cold.

I groaned before I realized I did and the heat came right back, causing me to sigh happily and subconsciously curl closer to the source of the heat. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. "W-what are you doing?!" He asked loudly, his voice rising at least two octaves. I giggled despite myself. I was regaining use of my limbs!

"Curling against you.. You're giving off a lot of heat right now, and I'm kind of cold. Ya know, being naked from the waist down kind of has that effect on the body. Even if there are at least five of you touching my skin." I knew my cheeks were losing their pinkness, but his warmth only got greater. My body curled closer to him again. And I found myself able to move my arm to find his hand.

I felt taught muscles on his hand, the outlines of his veins popping out against the smooth and warm skin. There were next to no callouses on his fingers, only scars where old ones had been. I traced up his arm, feeling taught muscles that were bigger than I expected from someone our age. His shoulder was broad, strong; muscular and supportive. Then I hesitantly moved my hand up to his face.

Everything was quiet for several moments. It was if nothing breathed. Nothing moved. Nothing existed but my fingers tracing his face. His jaw was strong, square in shape and firm; supporting a sculpted mouth with pouty lips that were smoother than a baby's bottom. I could feel the teeth below his lips, perfect and sculpted. His nose was angular, stern and prominent. It had a slight raise in the tip; giving me a curious mental image. His eyes were deep-set, and large. They seemed to go on forever. I found myself wanting to stare into them, and tried again to open my eyes. Only to find disappointment.

My hand went higher and traced the hair that framed his face; it was softer than silk. And down to his chin with a slight curl at the bottom. It felt so smooth, I ran my fingers up to tangle in his hair and slid them back down until I dropped it back onto my waist. And all at once; everyone started breathing again.

"You're handsome.. I can tell." I told him, turning to stare up at where I guessed the sun was. There was warmth coming from that way, so I figured it was beaming right down on top of me. I smiled peacefully and let it soak into my bones; warming me to my core.

"Thank you.. But you have not seen me to know so, milady." He told me honestly, and I could hear the pained beat his heart gave. He wasn't confident. He had scars on his heart like I had on mine. I found myself aching to comfort him. Let him know he wasn't alone. But I could not quite yet move.

"Things of that nature are in the eye of the beholder, altmer.. " I told him. Slowly opening my eyes, finally able to look around only to close them moments later due to the brightness I had not been expecting. I covered my eyes with my hands and slowly moved to sit up.

His hands shot off my hips and moved to rest behind my back. Easing me up gently and moving me into a sitting position. I was in the back of a semi-covered wagon. Covered with some sort of blue blanket that only covered the naked portion of my body. The sunlight was fading fast from the day, seeping in through the opening at the foot of the wagon.

There were six people in the wagons back with me. Some wearing mage robes. Some wearing normal clothing. I found the face of the man who'd been trying to comfort me the most since I had woken and stared hard at him. He was beyond handsome. I had been wrong. He was.. Beautiful.

His skin was the color of the first bit of sunlight in the morning, bright and shining. His eyes were the color of the night sky; sparkling as if they had stars in them as well. His lips were a soft pink color, a beautiful contrast against his pale yellow skin. His hair was the color of midnight; blacker than the void itself I bet. But that's not what mostly caught my attention; it was the way he looked at me.

That boyish, first crush look. The one that said he'd seen my scars and still wanted my heart. I felt my own heart rapidly pound in my chest and stared back at him. Wondering what he thought of me. I lowered my eyes and mumbled, so only he could hear, "I was wrong.. You're beautiful.." And my answering laugh almost made my insides ache.

His laugh was musical, melodic and perfect. It was as if he had been hiding something beautiful inside of him. This time when he spoke, his voice was softer. Friendly. Appreciative. "My name is Phiro, and yours?" I felt my heart skip a beat. Phiro. Like fire. The fire!

"The orphanage!" I screamed, staring out of the back of the wagon with panic. "Did anyone else get out?!" I addressed all of them now. And their eyes were bleak, sad. The Kahjiit male shook his head and I felt my heart shatter right there. I was the sole survivor. I could've saved them all if I'd known. I felt the tears stream down my cheeks before I even had a chance to process the information.

I felt Phiro's hand on my cheek, wiping the tears from the skin but I felt none of the warmth I had earlier. Now I only felt pain. Heartbreak. Frozen. "Alanah.. My name is Alanah.. " I mumbled, grabbing the sheets up and pulling my knees to my chest. I wrapped it around my cold limbs and rocked myself back and forth.

The men's face was flushed, having seen my exposed pelvis. But I did not care. I did not care about anything but him. I left him there. To die. It would be my fault he died. It would haunt my conscious for the rest of my life. I would never let it go. Never forget what I had experienced in my few short months of being there with him. With _Jolf. _

The next sets of days were similarly like this for me. The men were taking me to a city, called Riften, where I would be given over to a man there who was an excellent Blacksmith. He had recently lost his wife to a fire in a neighboring village when she was on a house call, so he and I had some things in common. And they thought I needed a proper father figure to attempt at healing my heart.

They did not count on my heart being shattered beyond repair, but I did not count on him being the gentle man I found out that he was. Caring and affectionate, who did not touch me in ways the old orphanage man had. This man was kind. And over the course of a few weeks, I came to call him father.

On more than one occasion, guards from the old town came to talk to me about the fire. To get my story straight. They most likely thought I was the arsonist. I never did tell them about the unmalting snow. Or about how it saved my life. I left that out each time, only that I had escaped through an open window just before the flames were too high to take my life.

They had only pulled one body out of the charred wreckage. And determined it to be that of the old master. I didn't know where the others had gone, or where their remains were, but it was no secret of how the Master had an eye for me. Or of how I despised him. My revenge would have been just, but I did not attempt revenge. I couldn't claim that glorified triumph.

My father was protective of me, from the start. He taught me how to forge weapons, and before I knew what I was really doing, I was forging weapons as great as he was. Only, I liked to lace mine with unique designs. If a man came to buy a sword, he knew the difference in my sword verses my fathers. And more often than naught, I was bringing home dinner.

The women of Skyrim that came through the streets of our town always told me of these amazing adventures. Of how men underestimated them time and time again, but they always prevailed. That using their feminity was their advantage over a man three to four times their size. And before long, I was aching to go on my own sets of adventures.

But father was too careful, and that factor played a major role in my life. I was too afraid to hurt my father. Maybe that's why I ran when the Stormcloaks came for me. I was only seventeen four-season intervals old that year. I was at the height of my prime. Grown into my body and my sexuality. I knew I wasn't ugly to look at, and I used that when getting customers to buy our pieces.

That day, when that man showed up, it was no different. I was casting small, shy glances from behind my lashes. Occasionally placing a hand on his shoulder as I showed him one of our more prized pieces of sculpted steel. My goal was only to sell a sword, not to gain the favor of the main protagonist of the fast-approaching war. Ulfric.

"This piece of work was crafter from a new metal I discovered last time I was at Markarth visiting a friend who worked in the old dwemar ruins. It's made of a metallic substance known as aluminum. It's nowhere near as heavy as glass or steel; and it's just as strong." I told him, as I leaned over purposefully to trace the intricate designs I had carved on its shaft. I saw him as his eyes looked from the blade to my breasts.

I thought the sale was in the bag, all I had to do was negotiate prices for it. "I can let it go for ten thousand coins. It's already got an enchantment on it and it's one of a kind. I assure you, if you use this in battle, no one will mistake you for legion. Or for something else." And I lifted the sword to turn it over, pointing to the indicator that the sword was indeed enchanted. The emblem of fire was embodied on top of the emblem for soul trapping. Indicating it was a prize if ever was one.

It was rare I sold a duel-enchanted item. And even Ulfric knew that I was a master at my art of trade. I knew what it was worth and I wasn't about to let it go for cheap. "Hm.. " He grunted as he watched me and the sword in one sweep of his gaze. "I'll take it if you throw in a dinner with me tonight. And I won't try to Jew down the price."

He smirked at me when my façade faltered for a moment. I didn't know what to say to that. I had never been asked to go to dinner with someone. Much less the most infamous man in all of Skyrim. I would either be the safest girl or the one in the most danger. And I couldn't decide which one excited me more. "I accept your offer, then, Ulfric.. " I told him, fighting to keep my face composed.

"I will see you tonight, then.. I'll be staying in the Honeyside Manor for the duration of my stay, and that is where I'd like you to come once the sun goes down." He dropped a sack of the coins and leaned forward to kiss my hand before he turned and just like that was gone. I ran inside with the coins to tell my father.

Later that evening, dressed in an unusually nice dress with my father's wives jewelry sitting on my neck; I entered into the small manor. It was abnormally dark and as I closed the door, I felt the first wave of panic enter my conscious.

The only light I could see, came from a small hole in the floor of the master room, that led down into the basement. I slowly descended the staircase and found myself in the middle of a small, little kitchen room. Over the fire was a burning stew that smelled delicious. And stirring it, alone, was Ulfirc.

He had traded his Jarl's clothing for something more deserving of normal. A simple green tunic with an air of brown trousers that hugged him in the right places. I felt my heart skip a beat when he looked up from the fire to me. That same cocky smile returning to his lips that he had earlier when I had accepted his request for a date.

"I see you made it.. " He told me, drawing out the words as he stepped closer to me. He placed a single hand on my shoulder and led me over to a table. Where he even pulled my chair out for me and as I sat down, he moved to sit on the one to my left. " I'm glad you did not set me up, Alanah.. "

"What kind of woman would I be if I dishonored my father by standing you up, Ulfirc?" I asked him, my tone normal. Casual. Calm. I knew I had to keep my calm to keep myself from running from this room and going to hide in my father's embrace for the remainder of the night.

"The kind of girl I first took you for, to be honest.. " He told me, and I had to fight not to scowl at him. In the back of my mind all I could think was; _how dare he insult me in such a way! _But I knew he was right. My façade was just that; a façade. I was nowhere near as confident as I seemed to be earlier.

"Perhaps you shouldn't judge a book by the bindings it has.. But rather by the spine that holds it together, no..?" I asked him. The challenge lacing my words with slight venom. My pride was struck with his earlier statement and I wasn't that quick to forgive. But perhaps I should have been.

His eyebrows drew together as he watched me. "Perhaps that is true, milady.. I apologize if I had offended your pride or honor. It was not my intention, I assure you." And as he spoke, he poured me a glass of wine and looked at me with genuine remorse. Or at least I thought.

I reached for the glass as he held it out to me and gingerly sipped at the liquid. It was cold but it stung as it went down my throat and I bit into my lip as I set it back down. "You don't seem to care if you insult one's pride, Ulfric.. Surely the Jarl you are, you knew your remark would get that sort of reaction?" My tone was bold, I knew the risks of standing up to him.

But something in my tone, in the fight I had behind it, intrigued him rather than angered him. He leaned closer to me and I could smell the scent of the sweet wine on his breath. "I was merely seeing if you had the spine to hold things together, Alanah.. " And he leaned even closer.

For the first time, I felt real fear in my stomach. What did he expect of me? And what was I willing to give tonight? Surely I wouldn't just kiss and tell like that. I was brought up better. But his eyes were the same color as Jolf's. And I caught myself fighting back my own tears. I looked away.

"I have the spine to hold it together, Ulfric.. But what exactly was the reason for you wanting me here this night?"

"I merely wanted to be alone with you and see if your façade would drop and I could see into the person you truly were. Outside of the devious little shopkeeper/blacksmith I met earlier." And he leaned back in his chair, reaching over to stir the stew. I guessed it was almost done, because the scents wafting around were making me famished.

"Well, the shopkeeper is necessary in order to sell a sword forged by a woman. It catches the interest and holds it, of the customer, just long enough to make the sale. It keeps food on the table and buys new supplies." I told him, watching as he poured two bowl of the soup and set one in front of me. I gingerly lifted a spoonful and blew the heat off it before sliding it into my lips and tasting it.

I let out a groan of approval as the spices touched my taste buds. Making me taste the flavors of exotic spices as well as local ones. But what really made my stomach melt was the sweet mutton and pork combination he had used. The flavors went in perfectly together and left little room for the vegetables to wrong. It was delicious.

"I take it the soup is acceptable..?" He asked me, chuckling at my nod as I lifted another spoonful. We ate mostly in silence, other than the occasional question from Ulfric and my occasional question about the spice I tasted in that bite of stew. Once I was finished, he asked if I'd like to go upstairs and see his sword collection. I agreed.

As he showed me the intricate swords, I felt a pang of jealousy for more than one of their creator's talent. One in particular caught my eye. It was done in what looked like silver, but had glass swirls all through the length of the swords shaft. Leaving it clear in some angles and giving it a beautiful appearance.

"This one was crafted specially for my father, " He told me as he held the sword out to me. I grabbed the hilt and lifted it up, admiring the handy work that went into something like this. "He had it crafted by a secret society he never named. But they were said to be the best in all of Cyrodiil. It's my prized piece so far." And his eyes fell on mine as he said 'so far'. And I shivered.

He took the sword from me and put it back where it belonged. I leaned against the door frame to the master room as I peered out the window that sat in the main foyer. "There are no stars out tonight.. " I said absentmindedly. In my culture, that was a bad sign. It meant the sky was angry for some reason. And about to let loose the pent up anger it felt.

He stepped over closer to me, coming to stand just in front of me. Close enough I could feel the heat radiate off his body. But I kept my eyes on the window, on the sky. Something about it was like a warning sign. Telling me to run. And now. But I couldn't move. I could only stare and wait.

His hand lifted to touch one of my silver tendrils of hair, twirling it around his finger. And as he lifted it to his nose, he leaned closer to smell it. I felt my heart skip a beat and pick up a constant flutter. I was nervous. I felt tired and wide awake all at once. He dropped the strand of hair and I felt his hand move to the side of my neck.

Resting on it as he slid his hand lower. My eyes turned back to him at the moment his hand hesitated on my collarbone. My head was spinning. If I pushed him away and was rude, was he to respect my decision or call the guard to kill me for dismissing his advances? I didn't know. He leaned down further and his lips were just in front of mine. My heart was hammering so fast it was painful.

"You're so beautiful, Alanah.. " He whispered to me, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. I leaned back as far as I could, which was just barely far enough to keep his lips off of mine. My neck had arched as I had leaned back and his hand rested in the hollow where my neck and shoulder met. His head tilted forward and I thought for a moment he had given up.

I knew he could feel my pulse under his hand, because I could feel his against mine. His was calm and collected. Mine was racing and flustered. He softly stroked my collarbone with his thumb and I felt myself shiver involuntarily. Then I felt his pace pick up. I wasn't sure what to do now. I felt frozen.

"Alanah.. " He breathed, and before I had time to ask what his lips were on my neck and my hands were in his hair. I was pulling to try and disentangle him from me. But it only excited him more. His lips were kissing very sensitive parts of my neck. And despite my attempts at not responding, I was moaning under his lips. Putty in his hands.

He hooked his free hand under one of my knees and lifted it so that he could pin me to the wall. Before his hand slid up to grip the back of my ass and he ground against me. Letting me feel just how excited I was making him by struggling. I stopped fighting the minute I felt it against my skirts. I knew he was far stronger than me.

If he wanted to have me, he could. He just had to call for the guard and that would be it. They'd hold me down and take turns with me. I'd heard the stories. His lips went lower and his hands moved to tear the front of my dress open. His lips finding the tops of my breasts and leaving a trail of burning saliva in their wake.

It was all I could do not to whimper or moan as I stood there, letting him touch me. His hands moved lower and before I knew it, my entire dress was in shreds on the floor. And I was left in a thin gown of a thing that I wore to keep my dress smooth. His hands were making quick work of that. And in seconds, he lifted it off of my form.

Leaving me bare and naked in front of him. I watched with frozen horror as his hands traveled along my body, between his and mine. He gripped roughly onto one of my breasts and I let out a surprised cry. No longer able to control the sounds I was making. I was turning to mush in his hands.

I had sold him a sword and I guessed this was his way of getting his money's worth. By taking me. Whether or not I said no, I knew it wouldn't matter. But I had to try, didn't I? "Ulfric.. " I gasped as his mouth found one my nipples and pulled on the small bud with his teeth. "Stop.."

His mouth stopped for a moment before he lifted his head and released my nipple; earning a pant of a sound from me as I leaned my head back against the door frame. I felt dizzy and disoriented. But I knew I didn't want this. Not like this.

"Why..? You were enjoying it, were you not?" He asked, and for a second I saw a flash of anger in his eyes.

"I was, yes.. But I don't want my first time to be like this.." I told him and then his eyes lit up with understand. And hunger. He wanted me. I was now a bigger trophy than I would've been before. And his lips found my neck once more. This time hungrily biting and sucking at the flesh.

I yanked roughly on his hair to try and pull him off of me, but it didn't work. I wiggled against him to try and get him to lose his footing. But I ended up being suspended against the door post. With him between my legs. Rubbing his hips against mine with brutal force. I started crying quietly as I realized my struggling had only made the situation worse.

He was going to take me. Whether or not I wanted it.

I felt his hands move down my body, caressing my stomach and finally my pelvis; stroking the v shaped line that dipped to where my nether lips were. They were dripping, despite my distaste for his advances on me. My body had a mind of its own and I was putty in his skilled hands as he traced them and only made them wetter. A knot forming in the pit of my stomach that was becoming painful.

He dipped a finger between the folds of my lower lips and flicked the bud between them; the bud that only I had ever touched. In the most private of moments when father was fast asleep. I cried out and bucked against his hand, earning me a growl of approval. I bit back the sounds as I felt him rub the bud; twisting it occasionally and flicking it to earn a gasp from me.

His lips slid up my neck to find my ear as he dipped a single finger inside of the opening there. I cried out despite myself and started to writhe as he inserted a second one. The tears were starting to stream down my cheeks as I felt the pain already. He was going to end up tearing me apart. I had to think quickly.

"I-I want to touch you… " I panted, using the pleasure from his touches to fuel my tone. Giving me a lustful, hungry tone. Slowly, his head lifted and he looked into my eyes. I placed my façade back on. Giving him the most desirable look I could muster up. "Please.. " I moaned quietly to him, bucking against his fingers and moaning once again.

He must have believed me, because he dropped me to my feet and removed his hands from my body. Letting me have full reign as he led me to the bed. I turned so I as in front of him and slowly slid my fingers down his chest, across his abdomen and to his trousers. Slowly, I undid the tie holding them up and pushed them to the floor. Then I pushed him back on the bed roughly. My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark.

I slowly climbed on top of him and brushed my pelvis against his loin cloth. He hissed and arched his back and neck; tilting his head back completely and exposing his neck to my lips. I quickly dipped my head down and started to suck on the flesh of his neck. Much like he had done to me. My hand slid up the bed to the pillows and I felt around for what I knew would be there. A secret weapon.

It was small, but blunt. I could use it to knock him out and make a run for it. I straddled my hips against his, the loincloth moving up so that his shaft was touching my nether lips. The juices from them were coating the length of it. He hissed once more and his hands gripped my hips, forcing my hips harder onto his shaft. I let out a soft moan and sank my teeth into his neck.

His hands gripped painfully into the flesh of my hips and ass and he gave it a rough squeeze before I released his neck from the hold of my teeth. I let out a small moan against the flesh as I rocked my hips off of his only to slide them against his once more. He was going to lose control at this rate and so I knew I had to do it and quickly if I were to get out without having to seduce him completely.

Using my leverage, I moved the weapon to my side just close enough to grab and smiled down at him. "Lean up and take off your shirt, Ulfric.. " I told him in a seductive tone, my voice dipping low with a hint of want. He obediently leaned up to take it off. And I took advantage of the situation; the second he leaned up and had it coming it, I grabbed the baton and smacked him as hard as I could with it. His face twisted and then he fell in a heap on the bed. Out cold.

I jumped up and pulled on the remnants of my dress, slipping into the night as I ran for home. I barely had time to pack a bag and change before I heard the knock on the door. I knew that if they found out I was here, they'd punish father. So I quickly grabbed up my bag and slipped out the back door. Still holding the entire day's wages I had earned in my sack of goodies.

I didn't know how many days I had been running before I stumbled into that tavern that day to enjoy a relaxing day in legion territory. I knew I was safe with the legion. But if the Stormcloaks got me, I'd be dead in a weeks' time. If I was that lucky.

I sat down at my usual table for when I came to these parts, and took out my book. I started to read when I noticed his eyes on me. I followed the source of them to meet the face I had seen many years ago on the wagon and my heart nearly skipped a beat. He was staring at me so intently, I feared he knew who I was. Whether because of the wagon ride or because of the reputation I had for assaulting Ulfric.

I saw him go back to his tome, but his kept returning to me every so often. So I chose to play his game. Watching him over my book as I read the pages and stared at him. It was all I could do not to run to him and touch his hand once more. Those silky golden strands that seemed to ease my nerves when I touched them. My skin was already alive with the memory of his touch. Of him holding me as I cried the entire way to Riften about my fallen friends.

Before long, I lost interest and started focusing on my book. It was a book I had read over a hundred times and continued to read every chance I got. It was the detailed account of the fire and what they figured happened to its occupants; written by a legionary who had investigated it. I kept thinking I was overlooking something important each time I read it. And each time I noticed more things about it.

I glanced up when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and saw him speaking in a quiet tone to the girl who was tending the bar. She laughed as she looked at me and nodded to him, before he gave her a few coins. She came towards me with a glass of mead before I noticed him going upstairs.

I stared at the mead curiously, "What's this for?" I asked her quietly, slipping a few coins of my own out of my pocket. She smiled softly at me, without even seeing them and gestured towards the stair case I had just seen Phiro go up.

"The gentleman that just went up the stairs insisted I bring this over to you and say it was from him.. " She smiled, gushing in a giggly, innocent way. She couldn't have been but barely legal. Maybe fourteen season-cycles old. She was still pure and I liked that about her. I giggled with her and offered her the coins I had.

" Can you tell me which room number he is in, little one?" I asked her and she took the coins gratefully, gushing with me about how adorable it was to have a crush at our ages and how romantic it all was with him buying me mead and me sneaking into his room. I tried not to laugh with her, but she had that kind of personality that just made you laugh more than you thought you could. Even at the worst of times.

"I can't say he's in room three on the left… " She hinted, winking at me and I stifled another laugh as I nodded and mumbled a thank you. I put my book away and dawned my sash before I went upstairs and listened. I waited for him to fall asleep before I picked the lock and slipped in. Unnoticed.

I saw his things by the wash basin so I moved over to look at them. Under his shirt was a trinket; and I recognized it immediately. It was the necklace I had given him when I had said goodbye. I felt my heart squeeze painfully in my chest and I turned to stare at him while he slept. I quietly took out a single nightshade blossom and set it atop the trinket before I slipped back out of his room and locked the door.

I needed the time to think. Because if he remembered me, did he recognize me? And if not, would he? I had little time to think, for when I fell asleep I was out cold. No dreams disturbed me that night. But neither did any nightmares. Which was good, or so I thought.


End file.
